Osaka The Wanderer
by gman2006
Summary: While retrieving Chiyo's will from her mansion, Sakaki stumbles upon information regarding a long dead Osaka.  Meeting up with Chiyo, she learns that her friends have had encounters with the girl.  And for some reason, Osaka is offering help, for a price.
1. Chapter 1

Well, it's been a long time since I've done a chapter fic, so I better do a good job on this one. Based off a book I read in college, you certainly don't need to know anything about the book to enjoy this story. Which , by the way, the name of the book is: Melmoth the Wanderer. I highly recommend it to anyone who is up for a challenging read.

Anyway, with this story, there will be a lot of jumping around; tons and tons of flashbacks. I'm attempting to do this in a fashion similar to Melmoth the Wanderer, and I will try to prevent confusion. You will see a bit of story nesting (not too much), and almost all of the gang will eventually appear.

Finally, this story is rated M for future chapters. Expect Osaka to be out of character for most of this story. I will try to keep certain aspects about her in mind, but we'll see what happens. So, without further delay; read, review, and enjoy!

**Chapter 1**

Sakaki stood. She stood in shock that the house had fallen into such disrepair; stood in amazement that the house was even standing; stood in horror knowing that she had to somehow traverse its empty corridors. The Mihama mansion, which once stood in the presence of perfectly trimmed grass and shrubbery, now loomed over a jungle of dead grass and overgrown thistle patches. The mansion itself, had paint flaking off, numerous windows shattered, shingles scattered across cracked cement, and the front door appeared to whistle open and shut of its own accord.

The house, sadly reminded Sakaki of Chiyo. The way she laid in that hospital bed, day after day, gazing out that window, as if she were expecting someone. Something had changed in Chiyo the day she returned from America. Sakaki didn't know what, and because Chiyo refused to talk about it, Sakaki could only guess at what might have happened. And since her placement in assisted care, Chiyo's health has deteriorated; much like her home, over the past nine years. _And she's only sixty-four. _Sakaki thought helplessly to herself. Still, Sakaki couldn't help but think back to her conversation earlier in the day with Chiyo, when Chiyo asked her to go to the mansion . . .

* * *

><p>Sakaki stepped into the hospital that she had become so familiar with. She had gotten off early from the Ishihara Animal Hospital due to a phone call concerning Chiyo. Sakaki walked past the front desk and politely greeted the secretary as she passed. Navigating her way through numerous hallways, Sakaki soon reached her friend's room where Misagi-sensei waited outside. The nurse had become good friends with Sakaki as she regularly updated Sakaki on Chiyo's condition. It was her, in fact, that had called Sakaki at work.<p>

Turning, Misagi-sensei's face brightened as she said, "Sakaki-san, how are you doing?"

Giving a brief nod in reply, Sakaki asked, "How's Chiyo?"

Sighing, the nurse briefly glanced into Chiyo's room and then back at Sakaki. "Not good. She hasn't been eating or drinking much. The doctors don't know what to do with her anymore."

"Is there anything I can do?"

"Just visit with her. She's always in a better mood after she's seen you. How's your knee?"

Sakaki blushed slightly at the nurse's concern. "Fine thanks." Sakaki had had surgery on her knee after falling down some stairs only a month ago. Though stiff, she could move around easily enough.

"Well I won't keep you. Chiyo should be awake. I was just in there, but she wouldn't say much to me."

"Okay thanks," Sakaki said and watched Misagi-sensei walk off down the hall. Once out of sight, Sakaki lightly knocked on the door and entered; finding Chiyo in bed, staring out the window. Sakaki took her seat in a folding chair alongside the bed and just watched the back of Chiyo's head for a moment. Finally poking a finger on Chiyo's shoulder, Sakaki gently called her friend's name.

It took a minute, but Chiyo did eventually take her eyes off the window and relaxed into her bed a bit as she looked up at Sakaki. "Hey Sakaki. Sorry to get you out of work, but this couldn't wait."

"That's okay. How're you feeling?"

"Tired." Her voice seemed to drop with her head, and for a second, Sakaki half expected Chiyo to fall asleep. Every time Sakaki would visit, Chiyo always felt tired. Sometimes she was tired of the food, other times she was tired of the television and how nothing was on. And just last week, she had told Sakaki that she was tired of the doctors scolding her for walking without assistance. "I can walk just fine on my own. I don't know what's the big deal." Chiyo had said, and Sakaki had chuckled at the sixty-four year old's spunk. But today was like many of the others. Chiyo, in her "normal," distant state, wouldn't look Sakaki in the eye as she continued, "My lawyers must've gotten in touch with the doctors. From what I've heard, they don't expect me to live much longer . . ."

"What can I do?" Sakaki had heard the news already from the doctors and though upsetting, she didn't want Chiyo to worry, and so Sakaki held her composure.

Finally meeting Sakaki's gaze, Chiyo's expression softened, "I need my last will and testament, along with a few other papers. They should all be in a brown manila folder in a safe on the second floor."

Then slowly sitting up, Chiyo swung her body to the side and gently slid her toes down to the floor. Sakaki moved to help, but Chiyo released a quick, "I can do this," before applying weight to her feet as the heels touched down. Holding on to the bed for support, Chiyo steadied herself, and slowly walked to a nearby dresser. Opening the second drawer, she pulled out a silver key and chain. In the same, slow motion, she returned to her bed, and got back under the covers. Handing the key to Sakaki, she said, "This will open the safe . . . Sorry for causing so much trouble."

Tucking the key away in a pocket, Sakaki nodded in understanding. Before Sakaki could say anything, Chiyo's attention shifted. "How was work?"

The question surprised Sakaki, though it shouldn't have. Whenever she visited, she always talked about work. One of the few things that Chiyo never tired from was hearing about all the animals that Sakaki cared for. It relaxed them both, and allowed Sakaki to unwind. It raised Chiyo's mood considerably, but Sakaki did notice that her friend's eyes would crawl back over to the window on occasion. But Chiyo would always turn her head back, and listen.

* * *

><p>Remembering the conversation with Chiyo brought a tear to Sakaki's eye. And how Chiyo had somehow known how upset she was by the news. Sakaki could just tell by the way Chiyo hugged her before she left. The tight squeeze, and the warm embrace; No<em> matter what, still the same caring Chiyo. <em>Sakaki thought as she climbed the cracked stairs and pulled the front door open.

Once inside, Sakaki pulled out a flashlight that she had brought from the car and began looking around. The once red carpet had faded into an almost rusty brown. Walls were covered in graffiti. Obviously, the lack of a caretaker had taken its toll on the house. Sakaki remembered how all the servants had left shortly after Chiyo's admittance to assisted care; taking off with anything of value in the process. Even with the graffiti, Sakaki could still see the outlines of where some of the Mihama's paints used to hang.

Climbing up the stairs, Sakaki noticed shards of glass spread across the worn steps. Glancing up, she noticed how the dust infested chandelier swayed with only a few crystals remaining. Upon reaching the top, Sakaki located the room which the safe had to be in. Chiyo's bedroom. Different from the bedroom she had as a kid, this room included a balcony that Sakaki was certain it would kill her if she attempted to walk on it. But gazing out the glass doors, she could see an expanse of land; all belonging to Chiyo, but just barely. And not too far from the house, sat a lone, lemon tree. She'd never seen it before, and maybe for good reason. Only a handful of lemons hung off the tree and the branches gave the tree an eerie, skeletal look; like a shriveled hand.

Aside from the bed, Sakaki also found Chiyo's old desk; which she'd been using since high school. And on the desk, sat a lonely calendar for 2043; the year Chiyo traveled to America. The nine year old calendar reminded Sakaki of the phone call she had received from one of Chiyo's college friends. When Chiyo returned from Japan, Sakaki was to take her straight to the hospital. And for the next nine years, Chiyo went in and out of surgery, saw various doctors and specialists; but no one could figure out what had happened to make her heart so weak.

Sakaki's flashlight finally falling onto the walk-in closet, she opened it to reveal among other things, a small, gray safe. Noting extravagant, the safe took up no more room than the toolbox Sakaki had at home. Pulling the key out of her pocket, she unlocked the safe and pulled out a manila folder (the safe's only contents). Checking to see that everything Chiyo needed was there, Sakaki, intending to make a quick exit, stopped when her eyes fell onto a small shoebox. For some strange reason, the box had peaked Sakaki's curiosity. Picking it up, she walked it over to the desk and before she could set it down, the bottom of the box gave out. Papers, notebooks, and pictures spread all across the floor. Bending down to pick them up, Sakaki noticed a full body mirror next to the desk. Reflecting the doorway from which she had entered; Sakaki froze at the sight of a shadowed figure, standing behind her in the doorway. She could tell it was a girl by the hair and delicate build, yet the shadow girl appeared to be no older than a high school student. Though frightened, Sakaki whirled around to face the intruder, but no one was there. A chill ran down Sakaki's spine as she looked back at the mirror, which reflected an empty doorway.

Hurriedly grabbing at papers, Sakaki felt ready to leave. But unable to leave the mess, she snatched papers up and threw them onto the bed. Pulling an envelope off the ground, Sakaki accidently spilled out a series of newspaper articles onto the floor. Many of them appeared to be years old, were yellow in color, and unreadable. Along with the articles, a folded up piece of paper also fell out. Picking the paper up, Sakaki stared at a memorial page for Kasuga Ayumu. It had been torn out from their high school yearbook.

Forgetting all about the shadowy figure, Sakaki leafed through some of the newspaper articles that she had picked up. One that was legible had the title, "Tradgey befalls high school graduation celebration." The date on the article was June 5, 2002. Sakaki read:

"Yesterday, Kiyohiko High's class of 2002 suffered a tragic loss when the forty-five year old building caught fire. The class of 2002 had been celebrating their joyous graduation with friends and family when a fire reportedly broke out somewhere on the second floor. While the cause is under investigation, the building is considered a total loss. Fire crews arrived at the scene at 2:00 to extinguish the blaze. A total of eighteen people were hospitalized for burns and other nonlife threatening injuries. Only one graduate failed to make it out of the fire, Kasuga Ayumu. Crews worked tirelessly for hours, but no body could found. Funeral arrangements have yet to be made for the girl. At this time, no foul play is suspected."

Sakaki sat for a moment in silence. She remembered that day quite well. It was the last day that the gang had been together. While Sakaki had been one of the first ones out and because of how the fire crews were ushering people, she had gotten separated from the gang. But Sakaki did remember hearing that Chiyo was very lucky because it must have taken a while to find her. Sakaki heard that Chiyo had gotten trapped in one of the rooms and was unconscious.

The funeral had been a mess. Tomo had to be escorted out, and Chiyo had been just so overwhelmed with grief that she was silent for days afterwards. After the funeral, everyone went their separate ways, everyone just kind of lost contact with each other.

Searching around for other articles, Sakaki noticed that some of the notebooks that had fallen out were journals. The dates on some of them traced back to right after the fire. Picking one up to read, she opened it to the first page, but before she could begin, the light on her flashlight started to blink. Afraid she'd lose light, Sakaki quickly scooped up the remaining papers and shoved them onto the bed. Grabbing the brown manila folder, Sakaki hurried to the door, took one quick, questioning glance at her reflection, and left.


	2. Chapter 2

Well, I'm finally updating. It's been a while but I've finally finished the chapter. I'm working on getting updates faster.

This chapter kick starts the flashbacks and the jumping around. So I just thought I would give you a forewarning. It kind of makes the story sound choppy, but that's because it's supposed to. Later chapters will hopefully connect different events in a smoother fashion.

Well, whatever the opinion, please let me know what you think. Reviews help me write and I know you guys probably read this line a lot, but reviews are great motivation. So with that being said, please read, review, and enjoy.

**Chapter 2**

Sakaki watched as Chiyo sifted through the papers that had poured out of the manila folder. She appeared only half interested in them as Chiyo would glance at maybe the first few lines of one page, before she moved to the next.

As Sakaki waited, she thought of the shoebox full of papers, pictures, and notebooks that she had gone through. The news article about the school fire, the memorial page for Ayumu, but what struck Sakaki most was the journal. The first entry was dated only months after the school fire. And though Sakaki couldn't put a finger on it, something about that journal seemed to call out to her; begging to be read.

A shuffle of papers pulled Sakaki out of her thoughts as Chiyo finished signing a few things and placed them all back into the folder. Handing it to Sakaki, Chiyo asked, "Could you hand this to the nurse at the front desk for me?"

Sakaki glanced at Chiyo's unsteady hand. With the wrinkling of the pale skin, and the bulging of the veins, Sakaki's eyes moved over the rest of Chiyo's body as she took the folder. _She's younger than me. Yet, she looks almost ninety. _When it had become apparent that Chiyo had noticed her stares, Sakaki looked away in embarrassment and quickly answered, "I'll make sure the nurse gets these."

"Thanks Sakaki." At those words, Chiyo turned to Sakaki and forced a smile, obviously attempting a show of gratitude. But the trembling lips only bothered Sakaki. Her friend hadn't worn a real smile in years.

The smile quickly faded and suddenly Chiyo had lifted the covers over most of her body. With evening settling in, Sakaki realized how tired Chiyo must be. Beginning to let herself out, she stopped when a sudden question entered her mind. Turning back, she said, "Say Chiyo, I was just wondering. When I was getting your will, I found a shoebox full of papers. Ayumu was mentioned on some and there were even some journals. What were they . . ."

But Sakaki never got a chance to finish as Chiyo slowly sat up and faced Sakaki, an intense look in her eyes. Startled, Sakaki watched as Chiyo's face slowly calmed and in a soft voice, Chiyo said, "Sorry Sakaki. But, I'd appreciate it if you got rid of those papers."

"Why? I don't understand . . ."

"Please," Chiyo begged as she briefly looked up at Sakaki, before letting her eyes fall back to the bed, "It's too painful. You wouldn't understand."

"Alright," Sakaki said, not wanting to upset Chiyo. With her answer, Chiyo seemed satisfied and slowly laid back down, her head facing the window. "Get some sleep," Sakaki gently instructed as she exited the room.

Leaving the hospital, Sakaki's head filled with questions. What was in the journals that were so painful? Why did Chiyo keep them for so long? Could the journals explain why Chiyo has been acting strange? And, do they have anything to do with Chiyo's trip to America? Though Sakaki doubted the last question, her curiosity wouldn't let go of the journals that lay back in the mansion. Maybe they could help her understand why Chiyo has been so distant. And then, she'd be able to help Chiyo with whatever it was that hurt her.

Only a moment passed in which Sakaki needed to think. She wasn't fond of invading her best friend's privacy, but she could no longer stand to see Chiyo in that state. Making a quick stop at the supermarket, Sakaki stocked up on battery powered lamps along with plenty of battery back-ups. With a quick phone call to work, requesting a few days off, Sakaki sped towards the Mihama mansion for the second time that day.

Arriving at the mansion, Sakaki flicked on her reloaded flashlight. Supplies in hand, she approached the darkened house and stepped onto the creaking floorboards. With the sun's disappearance, not only was everything much darker, but the house seemed to come alive with the sounds of rodents, bugs, and a dozen extra creaks in the floor. Sakaki even swore she heard a cat; but from the sounds of its hoarse whine, she feared only the worst if the thing dared to bite her.

After carefully climbing the stairs, Sakaki entered her friend's former room. Setting up the lamps in various locations, she managed to light the room as well as any sixty watt bulb could.

Ignoring the faceless mirror, Sakaki sat on the bed and once again, began shuffling through the papers, pictures, and whatnot. Many of the pictures were of Ayumu. Whether they had been taken at school or at Chiyo's summer home, Ayumu could be seen in every one of them. The newspaper articles ranged from topics like: the fire at Kiyohiko High to strange ghostly appearances (some of these articles only being twelve to fifteen years old). Sakaki stopped when she reached an article titled, "Kasuga Couple Found Dead". Sakaki read:

"Mr. and Mrs. Kasuga were discovered dead late yesterday afternoon. According to an anonymous witness, the couple had had an argument only a few days prior. According to local authorities, the case has been labeled as a murder/suicide. Apparently some time after the argument, Mrs. Kasuga approached her husband with a kitchen knife and stabbed him several times. Turning the blade on herself, Mrs. Kasuga ended her life. No other details are known at this time. These are of course, the very same parents of Kasuga Ayumu; the high school graduate who died in the Kiyohiko fire two years ago."

No date could be found on the article. Sakaki scanned through other articles, but found little else that was readable. Much of the print on the articles had faded. Sakaki had barely been able to read the article on Ayumu's parents. Eventually picking up one of the journals, Sakaki opened it up. Finding paper in about the same condition as the newspaper clippings, Sakaki leafed through the pages, coming across several dates in June of 2002 and a few in July. But with the pages worn and the ink smeared, she couldn't make out much. The first full entry which Sakaki could read was dated, September 2, 2002. Sakaki read:

"I'm only a few days into classes here at Stanton University and I already miss Japan. But, the more I think about Japan, the more I miss Osaka. I know, I'm still calling her Osaka even though she's dead. I want to see her so bad, but my parents tell me I need to try and move on. That's why they sent me here. And I'm fortunate enough to have a place to stay near campus. Still, something doesn't seem right. Sometimes it happens at night, and other times during the day while I'm on campus, but I feel as though . . ."

* * *

><p>". . . I'm being watched," Chiyo explained to Kristina, the daughter of her parents' American friend; of whom she stayed with. Kristina just so happened to be attending Stanton, and was entering as a sophomore. When Chiyo had arrived in America, she had worried that no one would talk to her because of age difference, but was relieved when she met Kristina. Kristina was different. She had Tomo's energy, but in a more mature manner, like Yomi. Maybe it was the glasses. Still, Chiyo enjoyed hanging out with her, and Kristina did know her way around the city.<p>

"You're being watched?" Kristina repeated, sliding past a professor as they entered Lewis Hall, "You mean like aliens?"

Feigning a smile, Chiyo said, "No, not quite like that." Locating their classroom, Chiyo followed Kristina in and took a seat next to her in the back. Along with living at Kristina's house, Chiyo also had her as a Campus Aide. This meant sharing certain classes, including Chiyo's CIC (College Introductory Course), Gothic Literature. Receiving a questioning stare from her new friend, Chiyo continued, "More like, someone's following me."

Chiyo waited, wondering how Kristina would respond. However, the more Chiyo thought about her problem, the dumber it sounded. Hundreds of people attended Stanton. At any given time, at least twenty people could be heading in the exact same direction as her just because of classes. "Don't worry abou . . ." Chiyo started when a door from the front of classroom swung open and in stepped a middle aged man in a suit, with a brief case tucked under one arm.

"The name's Professor Zake. This is Gothic Literature and I'd like to get started right away by passing out your first book, Immalee. Written by a woman named Isidora, this book . . ."

Chiyo froze. There it was again; this unshakable feeling that someone was watching her. Glancing around the room, Chiyo searched for the pair of eyes that had to be stalking her. She found none. Chiyo turned to Kristina, but only found the side of her friend's head. Goosebumps crawling over her skin, she attempted to follow along with the class's discussion. But she couldn't ignore the feeling. Turning around in her chair, Chiyo saw something move into the wall. She only saw it for a second; but whatever it was, it was fast. A blur of transparent white mist, and then it was gone.

Chiyo stared long and hard at the spot where the mist had been. Several seconds passed before she realized Kristina was whispering her name. Turning, she saw Kristina mouthing the words "Is something wrong?" About to answer, Chiyo hushed herself up as she caught the glare of her professor. Kristina must've noticed it as well, for she quickly shifted in her seat too.

The remainder of the class passed smoothly enough. Chiyo occasionally looked back over her shoulder to see if maybe the mist would reappear. But it never did, nor did Chiyo experience that strange feeling for the rest of class. However, a small throbbing in her head now distracted her. She suddenly felt dizzy from the oncoming headache, and almost nauseous. Her vision briefly blurred and it felt as though she might pass out. _Maybe some fresh air would help. _Standing up, Chiyo clutched her desk for balance and at hearing muffled words from Professor Zake, Chiyo weakly replied, "I'm sorry . . . Don't feel so good . . . Just need some air."

Stepping outside, Chiyo felt an immediate change. She was no longer nauseous; and her dizziness started clearing up. Chiyo knew she needed to return to class, but something kept her from going back. What that something was, Chiyo couldn't put a finger on.

"Hey Chiyo," a sudden voice from behind exclaimed, "Are you alright?" Kristina hurried up to Chiyo, looking worried. "Did you want to stop at the health center? You didn't look too good back there."

"No, I'm fine." Chiyo replied as she resumed walking. Checking her watch, she found that class was only halfway through, but Kristina and everyone else were now exiting the building. Confused, Chiyo also noticed that her friend seemed startled. She looked as if someone had jumped her from behind. "What about you? And how come everyone else is leaving class?"

Kristina fumbled over her words, her eyes puzzled about something. "I'm fine. The . . . The power suddenly went out. So we got dismissed. I guess it just scared me. The whole crackling sound and everything . . ." Chiyo just looked at Kristina. Something didn't sound right, but she wasn't sure she should ask. Kristina obviously wanted to let the topic go when she quickly added, "Wanna get something to eat? We've got a couple hours."

Chiyo reluctantly agreed and allowed Kristina to lead the way. For the most part, Chiyo walked in silence; probably from the awkwardness of Kristina's behavior and her own. But that didn't bother Chiyo. She had kind of hoped for some quiet time as she wanted to think about what had occurred inside the classroom. Though she'd had the feeling of being watched many times, this was the first instance where she had actually seen something. That's if you call a mist, something. Still, it bothered her and Chiyo continued her attempts at explaining the mist until she suddenly heard Kristina saying her name.

"Jeez Chiyo. You sure do space out easily."

"Sorry Kristina. I was just . . ." but Chiyo stopped when she read the welcoming sign for the restaurant Kristina had brought her to.

Feeling her arm being tugged, Chiyo followed Kristina inside where a bored teenager greeted them at the cash register. "Welcome to Magnetron Burger. What can I get for you today?"

While Kristina contemplated her choices, Chiyo surveyed the restaurant. Very similar to the one back in Japan, only a few minor differences existed. The kitchen appeared to be arranged differently, and the drive through was on the wrong side. Still, tears formed in Chiyo's eyes as memories of Osaka filled her head. All the days she spent with Osaka at the Magnetron Burger in Japan, and how they were going to work there again before heading off to college. And before she knew it, Chiyo started crying . . .

* * *

><p>Sakaki flipped the page to continue, but discovered it unreadable because of fading and smearing ink. The next few pages chewed up, Sakaki flipped past a few shorter entries which only appeared to be days where Chiyo had nothing to write about. The next entry that caught Sakaki's attention took place only a couple of weeks after the first entry she read. What separated this entry from the others was it had not only a date, but a time as well. Though a short entry, Sakaki read the date: "September 17, 2002." And the time, quite surprising, read as, "3:05AM." Curiosity flaring, Sakaki read,<p>

"I had that dream again. I don't know what to do. The dream gets scarier and scarier every time I have it. The dream starts with me waking up outside of school . . .

* * *

><p>Opening her eyes, Chiyo felt her lungs releasing short, raspy breaths. What had happened? How'd she get outside? Chiyo attempted to sit up, but various arms reached out, and pushed her back down. Now that Chiyo thought about it, her vision had been blurry since waking. From what she could tell, she was on the ground. Figures loomed over her; a blazing orange light raging behind them. "What's going on?"<p>

"Just stay still," answered one of the figures. His voice wasn't familiar. A strong, husky voice; Chiyo attempted to focus in on the figure she thought had spoken. Slowly, the figure cleared out into a more definable person. He was a firefighter, and still in gear. "Just take it easy. You've had a small concussion."

Chiyo slowly felt around her head and winced when her hand brushed over a golf ball size lump. Groaning at her own touch, Chiyo returned to identifying the other figures which stood over her. Vision improving, she recognized them to be Kagura, Tomo, Yomi, and Nyamo-sensei. All were quite worried. The orange light behind them sharpened into a fire, and Chiyo's memory suddenly returned. An explosion had rocked the whole school with fire swiftly engulfing the building. Panic swept over Chiyo as she hadn't seen anyone beside the four above her. Again trying to sit up, the small crowd limited her movement. "But what about Sakaki-san, an – and Osaka-san? Where are they?"

"Oh I saw Sakaki! She was somewhere near the softball field!" Tomo chirped, a hint of nervousness in her voice.

The group fell silent as the firefighter left Chiyo's side, apparently satisfied with her improving condition. But turning back to her friends, no one clarified Osaka's whereabouts. Everyone suddenly stood up, and backed away. Confused, she got up as well and started towards her friends, but they vanished in a puff of smoke. The air clearing, Chiyo's heart lifted as she saw Osaka in the distance, calmly watching the clouds. Rushing up to her friend, Chiyo was about to embrace Osaka when the girl burst into flames.

Screaming, Chiyo needed to look away but couldn't take her eyes off the grisly sight of melting flesh. Even more so, Osaka's jaw moved and she spoke, in a soft despairing voice (completely ignoring her scorching flesh), "Chiyo-chan . . . please help me. I do w a go t e l. Chiyo, don die . . ."

* * *

><p>The entry got worse as Sakaki worked to decipher the rest, but too much of it had been damaged and Sakaki could no longer read that particular section. Flipping through the pages, Sakaki searched for the next readable entry. She finally came across a short entry dated: November 5, 2002.<p>

"Something has happened. I don't know if my mind is playing tricks on me or if I'm going crazy. I saw something I couldn't possibly have seen. I don't know if I should tell anyone or not. I was in Gothic Literature with Kristina and we were working on an assignment together . . ."

* * *

><p>"Alright, so next we need, a scene which references the imprisonment of Lady Cathcart," Kristina read from their worksheet.<p>

Chiyo flipped open her copy of Castle Rackrent and leafed through their latest reading. She vaguely recalled a scene described by Thady, but couldn't remember the exact page. They had just started reading the book so Chiyo had only a handful of pages to flip through when she found it. Excitedly, Chiyo replied, "Right here, on page 79 where it talks about never seeing or hearing Sir Kit's wife speak for seven years . . . Sorry I can't find the name."

Chiyo glanced up to see if Kristina had caught all that, but the confused, awed, expression forced Chiyo to repeat the line slowly. She smiled. With as smart as Kristina was, the girl was also known to be quite slow. The answer finally recorded, Chiyo asked, "Is that the last one?"

"That's it! Let me just hand this in and we'll leave," Kristina said as she stood up and grabbed the worksheet.

Chiyo watched Kristina head for the professor's desk with the worksheet in hand. A slight brushing against her hair caused Chiyo to turn around and discover someone trying to get through. Apologizing, Chiyo scooted her chair in and watched a girl sneak through. For some reason, the girl looked awfully familiar. _How strange_, Chiyo thought. _Just seeing her back reminds me of someone_. But when the girl turned and gave Chiyo a brief glance, it stopped her heart. Short brown hair, brown eyes, and that drifting gaze; Chiyo's lips mouthed the name, "Osaka," as the girl left the building.

Abandoning her things, Chiyo jumped out of her seat and ran for the door. _It couldn't have been. That's just impossible. _Chiyo thought as she burst out of the classroom, ignoring Kristina's calls. Catching a glimpse of someone rounding a corner at the other end of the hall, Chiyo sprinted the twenty feet and skidded to a stop at the intersection. Empty.

_How could've it been her? _Chiyo reasoned. But the likeness was stunning. As she gasped for breath from the run, Chiyo couldn't get the girl's expression out of her head. Osaka or not, the girl had appeared depressed; like she was in pain.

Footsteps sounded the arrival of Kristina, who had apparently grabbed Chiyo's things before exiting the classroom. Almost tackling Chiyo, Kristina asked, "What's wrong? Why'd you leave like that?"

Momentarily speechless, Chiyo closed her mouth upon realizing it was hanging open. "I was . . . I just . . . Nothing. Don't worry about it." Chiyo didn't see the point in telling Kristina; it's not like the story was believable. Instead, Chiyo used a different approach. "Kristina, did you see anyone walk behind me when you took the papers up?"

Raising a suspicious eyebrow, Kristina replied, "No."

"Well, was there anyone sitting next to you?"

"Just Katy, why?"

Giving up, Chiyo said, "Nothing," and started walking for the door. She knew it wasn't Katy because Katy has blonde hair. And Chiyo knew the rest of the row had been boys and empty chairs. So who had she seen? And while she knew better, she couldn't help but think of the resemblances the girl had with Osaka. Same height, hair, expression, weight; everything about the girl screamed Osaka.

Exiting the building, Kristina asked, "Say, I was gonna head over to Cannon Hall and practice piano. Wanna come?"

"Sure," Chiyo nodded. She needed something to get her mind off the mysterious girl. And Kristina's piano playing was the perfect way to do it. She followed Kristina and listened to her friend talk about ten or fifteen different topics over the course of the block and a half walk.

Arriving at the hall, Chiyo followed Kristina into the music room. She had been there a couple of times before to hear Kristina play. The large open room was organized by instruments. Strings in one corner, percussion in another; and then towards the middle, for whatever reason, sat a lone piano. It was an old baby grand that looked as if it'd seen better days.

Kristina sat down and began playing. Her fingers brushed over the keys with delicacy. A soft melody rose out of the piano as Chiyo took a seat across from Kristina near some flutes. Chiyo relaxed in her chair and watched her friend's back. For some strange reason, the tune reminded her of Japan. Maybe it was the similarity to the music often played at festivals.

Resting her head on the back of her chair, Chiyo closed her eyes while Kristina's fingers tiptoed through the melody. Another sound soon drifted in, and began weaving in and out of the notes Kristina played. It almost sounded like a violin; though this didn't surprise Chiyo in the least. The music room was always open to students who wanted to practice and on a number of occasions; Kristina and Chiyo had been joined by other classmates. Tilting her head over, Chiyo opened her eyes to see who had joined them this time.

"Osaka," Chiyo whispered as she stared at the same girl who she'd seen earlier that day. Halfway across the room, standing in the violin section, was the girl. She just stood there watching; her sorrowful gaze landing heavily on Chiyo. Chiyo studied the girl's face, and stood up to approach her. She knew it couldn't be Osaka; and even in her head, Chiyo could hear a voice saying, _you're just imagining things. She's just another college student._ However, when the piano suddenly fell silent, the violin music stopped and the girl vanished.

"Say Chiyo," Kristina said, "Was there someone playing a violin?"

"Um . . . I think so but . . ." Chiyo said, not taking her eyes off the violin section. _But she wasn't holding a violin; was she?_

* * *

><p><span>January 28, 2003<span>

Closing the door behind her, Chiyo stepped into her room. For being the first week after winter vacation, Chiyo could've collapsed onto the bed. She'd gotten lazy over break and hadn't been able to do much. Of course mom and dad had wanted her to come home, but dad apparently got called out to business at the last minute. Chiyo could even remember what mom had said over the phone, "You know how your father gets on these trips of his. All the running he has to do, you're better off staying where you are."

"Oh well, guess it can't be helped," Chiyo sighed as she dropped her things on the bed. Walking over to her desk, Chiyo sat down and flipped through a few letters that Kristina's parents must have dropped off for her. Nothing too special, just a few Stanton College reminders. But underneath the mail rested a package; with Japan as the return address. Curious about what her parents might've sent, Chiyo grabbed a scissors from one of the drawers and cut alongside one of the taped edges. Pulling out a wad of bubble wrap, Chiyo discovered two things: a letter, and a picture frame. Inside the picture frame rested a photo of Chiyo and her friends from high school. It had been taken at her summer home. Everyone was in the picture. Even Nyamo and Yukari-sensei had managed to squeeze in the back next to Sakaki and Kagura. Yomi, Tomo, and then there was Osaka. Arm in arm, her and Osaka posed happily for the camera. Setting the picture on her desk, Chiyo rested her chin in her hands and just studied everyone in the picture. It'd been so long since she'd seen them.

"I wonder what everyone's doing," Chiyo said to herself. The more Chiyo looked at the picture, the more she steered her eyes away from Osaka. Too many strange things had been happening. She'd seen that mysterious girl a number of times but had been unable to talk to her. Glancing down, Chiyo noticed the letter. Almost forgetting about the letter, she picked it up and read:

(original letter had been paper-clipped to journal entry)

"Dear Chiyo,

How was your first week of second semester? And don't worry about that "B". College was never meant to be easy and your father and I will be proud of you no matter what your grades are.

The trip went well for us. We're sorry you couldn't come home. Don't worry though. For summer, we're thinking of coming up and spending some time with you in America. We haven't been to America in years.

With the picture, I've been meaning to send it for some time. I thought maybe it would make the semester easier for you. Please take it easy and study hard.

Love,

Mom"

* * *

><p><span>March 3, 2003<span>

Homework, homework; that's all Chiyo ever seemed to see these days. Only a month into the second semester and she'd been loaded with readings, essays, and a number of different projects. Of course, Chiyo had been doing everything possible to prevent another "B" from occurring. And many of the larger assignments had due dates much farther down the road. Still, Chiyo wanted an early start, and so sitting in her room, she had opened up her textbook from her Human Anatomy & Physiology class to start noting out ideas for a term paper.

Pencil in hand, Chiyo noted down things like, "Cardiac veins – drain blood that's passed through myocardial capillaries," and the difference between systole and diastole.

Fortunately, with the house empty, Chiyo could easily relax and enjoy her studying. Not that Kristina or her parents bothered Chiyo, but things seemed more peaceful with everyone out. Kristina was attending some seminar while her parents were at work. Chiyo had had the pleasure of getting out of class early and now had plenty of time on her hands to get ahead.

The sound of a vehicle pulling into the drive interrupted Chiyo's chain of thought as she then heard the doorbell. Checking the time, Chiyo excitedly hoped out of her chair for the treat she'd ordered. "Pizza time," she cheered as she hurried out of the bedroom, grabbing the cash as she went.

Paying for the sausage pizza, Chiyo hurried back to her room with the box. She'd been given permission to order out like this, though she rarely did it for fear of making a mess or leaving too many leftovers. But like Kristina said, "What's the point of hospitality if you're not gonna take advantage of it?"

Setting the pizza next to her notebook on the bed, Chiyo routinely closed the door to her room and resumed studying (pizza in hand). It wasn't long before she had eaten her way through a fourth of the pizza. Flipping through her book, Chiyo pulled another piece out of the box and was about to take a bite when a knock on the door stopped her.

"Come in Kristina," Chiyo said. _For a seminar, that was short._ The knock only repeated, and softly at that. Maybe Kristina was holding something, but that didn't explain why she didn't say anything. Hesitating, Chiyo slid off the bed and slowly approached the door. Hand clutching the knob, she swung the door open.

Chiyo stood agape, the slice of pizza slipping out of her hand and hitting the floor. Staring at the girl, Chiyo uttered, "O-Osaka?"


	3. Chapter 3

Alright, here is chapter 3. Sorry about the wait. I will say that this chapter does some more jumping around and moves maybe a little slower than the last chapter. But I am super excited to hear what people think of this chapter so please let me know! Chapter 4 will be coming soon (I already have a good start on it). So please read, review, and enjoy!

**Chapter 3**

"O-Osaka?" The name flopped out of Chiyo's mouth as she stared in disbelief. For there stood Osaka, the girl Chiyo had seen countless times around campus. Though Chiyo couldn't remember her friend's clothing from their previous encounters, she shockingly recognized the clothes Osaka now wore. Faded red shirt and a faded dark red skirt; their old high school had worn that uniform; for whatever reason; to school on the day of the fire. _But why is she wearing it now?_

Dozens of questions flooded Chiyo's head, but those could wait. Chiyo embraced Osaka, never wanting to let go. But something was wrong. Osaka's body felt hard, and she didn't move to hug Chiyo back. It felt like Chiyo had hugged a statue. Releasing her friend in confusion, Chiyo stared long and hard into Osaka's dodging eyes. "Osaka, did something happen?" No reply and suddenly Chiyo realized she was still speaking English, so she repeated the question in Japanese.

"No. I'm fine," Osaka replied in a soft, barely audible voice. "May I come in?"

"Sure," Chiyo quickly replied, still recovering from the shock of seeing her best friend. But as Osaka sat down at the desk, Chiyo noticed a sadness lingering on the girl's face. Closing the door, Chiyo sat on the bed and offered, "Did you want some pizza?"

Eyeing the floor, Osaka weakly replied, "No, not hungry."

An awkward silence settled in between them. Chiyo wanted to say something, anything; but she didn't know what. She wanted to ask about all the instances she'd seen Osaka on campus. _But how would I even begin?_ Not to mention, it sounded crazy. Chuckling, Chiyo finally said, "I guess I can stop calling you Osaka, Ayumu."

"No, Osaka's fine."

Taken aback, Chiyo asked, "Are you sure?" Osaka nodded in response, her eyes never meeting Chiyo's. Sighing, Chiyo twiddled her thumbs uncomfortably. She'd dreamt of this day countless times. Finding out Osaka was alive, and having a wondrous reunion with the others. Celebration, karaoke, a wild evening at her house, and maybe even a trip to her summer house; but Chiyo never expected this. How could Osaka go from being an open-minded thinker to a despairing, silent wreck? "Are you sure you're alright? We could call your parents if you want."

"My parents . . ." Osaka said the words as if they were foreign to her, like she didn't have parents. But catching herself, she eventually said, "They don't know I'm here."

"Well that's okay, we'll let them know. Where are you guys staying?" Chiyo got up to grab the phone. Osaka appeared at a loss of what to say, and Chiyo, since she was already right next to Osaka, placed her hand on the girl's forehead. "Osaka, you're really burning up!"

Chiyo wanted to say more, but Osaka interrupted, calm as ever. "Really I'm fine. I'm just a little tired is all."

No argument there, Osaka definitely looked tired. But Chiyo, unable to shake how warm Osaka's forehead felt, persisted, "Can I still have the number? I don't want you getting sick."

"I said I was fine!" Osaka shouted, causing Chiyo to jump. A long moment of silence passed where Chiyo found herself too startled to speak, and Osaka who appeared too ashamed to respond. The exclamation had scared Osaka as much as it had scared Chiyo. Finally, in a whisper of a voice, Osaka uttered, "I'm sorry."

Still shaking, Chiyo said, "N-No, that's alright. I'm just worried about you. Please and enveloping her hands around Osaka's, Chiyo said, "let me help you."

"I . . . I don't know how," Osaka said as her gaze fell onto the door.

"Don't worry, we'll figure something . . ." but Chiyo never finished her sentence. For at that moment, a brief knock on her door and it swung open. Chiyo turned to face Kristina. She was shocked. She didn't know what to say. Chiyo couldn't fathom how Kristina would react to this. Kristina had seen pictures of Osaka and Chiyo had certainly told Kristina about her friends; on numerous occasions too.

"Chiyo, what's going on here?" Kristina asked. But Chiyo couldn't open her mouth. She only watched and waited, feeling Osaka's hands slip out of her own. When Kristina did speak however, she stunned Chiyo with the words, "Why didn't you tell me you were ordering pizza?"

"Uhh, I . . ." Chiyo glanced from the pizza to the empty chair where Osaka had been sitting. She was gone.

March 17, 2003

Sunlight entered through the window of Chiyo's room as she glanced over to her alarm. Seven-thirty, she'd have to get ready for class soon. Stretching, Chiyo yawned and looked around the room. Osaka sat in her chair, watching her. The girl had appeared to Chiyo several times after her first encounter, but for never as long. Seeing Osaka in general gave Chiyo chills because she could never tell if Osaka had actually been there or not. _What if something is seriously wrong with me? She died in the fire. _The usual shock of seeing and speaking with a dead classmate and friend, hadn't worn off yet, but Chiyo found herself slightly more comfortable talking with Osaka. Unfortunately, her friend still remained silent, and only spoke handfuls of words at any given moment. "How long have you been there?"

"Since you fell asleep," Osaka answered simply. She sounded a bit more like herself today, but retained that despairing atmosphere which seemed to follow her.

"That was almost nine hours ago Osaka," Chiyo said shocked, glancing at her alarm clock once more. "What did you do all night?"

"Watched you. Wanted to make sure you were okay."

"But all night . . ." Chiyo was at a loss for words. How could Osaka just sit there all night? But Chiyo couldn't dig too much into the topic, or Osaka might disappear again. So instead, Chiyo simply got out of bed and began changing into a simple dress for class. She had a presentation today and was determined to be seen as anything but a child. "We really missed you," Chiyo finally said as she worked the buttons into their sockets. Sighing, Chiyo gave up and stared hard into Osaka's drooping eyes. "Why didn't you call us? Let us know you were okay? Even your parents . . . what's going on?" Chiyo couldn't help it. She wanted to know; wanted to help.

Osaka couldn't bear to keep her eyes on Chiyo and eventually had to look away. Afraid that she had gone too far, Chiyo prepared to apologize, but Osaka silenced her and said, "I'm sorry Chiyo. I really am. But . . . I did something I shouldn't have." Osaka excused herself to get dirt out of her eyes, though Chiyo suspected something else as the cause for irritation but remained silent. Once Osaka had finished drying her eyes, she continued, "I did something bad; something really bad. And now, there's something wrong with me. I don't know what to do."

Chiyo moved to comfort Osaka but she merely tensed when Chiyo tried to hug her. Rubbing her arm instead, Chiyo encouragingly said, "Don't worry Osaka, we'll figure it out. After all, I'm the genius right? I'll be able to help." Chiyo's attempt at cheering up her friend maybe half worked. Osaka wasn't smiling, but it certainly was the closest thing to a grin Chiyo had seen.

The "almost grin" faded quickly and Osaka said, "Better get to class Chiyo. Don't wanna be late."

Taking her books and things, Chiyo reluctantly left Osaka and headed for class. Since Kristina had some sort of on-location assignment, she would be walking alone. For the whole walk, Chiyo couldn't stop thinking about Osaka. What had Osaka done that been so bad? Some sort of criminal mischief? But Chiyo quickly scratched out that idea as the mere thought of Osaka breaking the law was laughable. And what could possibly be wrong with her? Chiyo wondered if maybe all this had something to do with Osaka's awkward behavior. "But what could it be," Chiyo asked herself. Walking into class, Chiyo set aside her thoughts and began preparing for her presentation.

With the start of class, the professor stood up, her black dress unraveling down to almost her heels, and she said, "Time to continue the presentations. Remember your term papers won't be due for at least a month; so this presentation should only be an introduction. Chiyo, would you like to start us off?"

Nodding, Chiyo pulled out her things and using her chair for height, she taped a poster of the human heart to the blackboard. Chiyo pulled out her note cards and began. "Good morning. My name is Mi . . . Chiyo Mihama and I will be talking about the heart." Nervously glancing at her note cards, Chiyo continued, "The heart is an amazing muscle as it works in a coordinated fashion. It . . ." But Chiyo stopped. In the back of class sat Osaka, listening to her; watching her. Almost forgetting her presentation, Chiyo peeked at her note cards and tried to continue, "Um . . . The cardiac cycle . . . is the set of events which . . ." As hard as Chiyo focused on her project, she couldn't nudge the fact that Osaka sat in the back of class; nor could she take her eyes off the girl.

"Don't be nervous Chiyo. It's not life or death," her professor consoled her.

Glancing at her professor, Chiyo nodded her thanks. But when she looked back to where Osaka had been sitting, only an empty desk could be seen. Chiyo scanned the room, searching for Osaka but found only her classmates. Looking back to her professor, she received a reassuring nod for her to continue. Pulling in a deep breath, she continued with her presentation. Talking about the heart and many of its functions, Osaka never reappeared.

With class ending, Chiyo headed towards the cafeteria for a quick bite to eat. With a short line, she entered the café, selected her food, and sat down at a small table in the corner. She began eating when another tray slapped against the table. Looking surprised, Chiyo asked, "Kristina, what happened to that on-location thing you had?"

"Got cancelled! Our professor cancelled because he didn't think we were ready! Can you believe that? This was supposed to be an introductory visit. What's to be ready for?" Kristina complained as she dug into her hamburger. Frustrated, she concluded, "Well whatever. So how has your day been?"

Setting down her milk, Chiyo said, "Okay. I was really nervous for my presentation. But I survived." Chiyo released an apologetic smile, hoping it would please her disconcerted friend. The image of Osaka in class still bothered her. Chiyo wondered if her friend was still out wandering the campus.

"Well, at least you have Professor Ray. She's usually very understanding." Kristina sipped her pop and sighed. "So, have you decided on a major? Since I'm supposed to be helping you with this stuff."

"I'm thinking of becoming a doctor. Professor Ray is a lot of fun and it looks like I'd have her more often."

"Then you'll wanna talk to her about the major. I don't know exactly what it's called, but you'll have to . . ." Chiyo stopped listening to Kristina as something had suddenly caught her eye. Sitting at a nearby table, was Osaka. She sat there, just watching Chiyo with an empty tray under her arms. Almost in a sort of trance, Chiyo stood up and approached Osaka. She heard Kristina utter something, but she couldn't figure what. Osaka just continued to sit as Chiyo closed in on her. A blue shirt hit Chiyo's face as she walked right into a boy passing with his tray.

"Sorry," Chiyo said as she helped the boy pick up his things that had spilt onto the floor. Fortunately, nothing had dirtied Chiyo's dress. Only waving his response, the boy in the blue flame shirt (now that she had a decent look) walked off. Turning back to the table, Osaka was gone.

"Chiyo, what's going on?" Kristina asked, obviously annoyed that she had abruptly walked out of their conversation.

"Uhh nothing. Say Kristina, was there anyone sitting at this table?"

"How should I know?"

Catching the edge in Kristina's voice, Chiyo apologized, "Sorry Kristina, I just thought I saw someone I knew." Signaling a return to their seats, Chiyo followed Kristina, hoping she hadn't angered her friend too much. But at the same time, she glanced back to the table, wondering about Osaka.

Kristina said something about discussing her plan with Professor Ray, and then had to leave for class. Chiyo finished her meal, and with two classes left, she hurried on out. Her Public Speaking class ended up being notes, no Osaka; Chiyo noted. Her Ancient Civilizations gen-ed course turned out to be the same, again no Osaka. Eventually returning to her room, Chiyo dropped her things on the bed, finding Osaka right where she had left her, in the chair at the desk.

Osaka had been distracted with something, for she didn't seem to notice Chiyo. "Hey Osaka," Chiyo called, careful not to startle the girl. Her friend calmly turned towards her. Chiyo was taken aback as Osaka appeared more tired than usual, and she looked quite pale. "Were you following me this morning?"

Weakly nodding her head, Osaka replied, "I wanted to see what you were doing. Wanted to make sure you were okay."

"What do you mean? Nothing's gonna happen to me," Chiyo said confused. But when she pressed the matter further, Osaka only shrunk away from her and didn't respond. Chiyo eventually dropped the subject. When an awkward silence began to settle in, Chiyo changed the subject and asked, "What were you looking at?"

Osaka appeared ashamed to say it, but relented and pointed to the picture Chiyo had received from her mom. The one with all her friends in it, including Osaka. "Oh this," Chiyo said, a little surprised. Picking it up, she scanned the picture, memories of all her friends rushing to her head. "Those were the good old days weren't they? I wonder what they're all up to."

Osaka reached for the picture, so Chiyo handed it to her. Watching Osaka run her fingers over the glass, Chiyo noticed how sad her friend looked. Osaka appeared ready to cry, just from looking at the picture. But she didn't, and instead, she said, "I hear Tomo's gonna be a cop. And Sakaki's gonna be vet . . ."

_So she has talked to them. _Chiyo felt relieved at hearing news of her friends. She hated that she hadn't been able to contact them all this time. Many people lost contact with each other after high school, and Chiyo did not want to be one of them. "What about Yomi, and Kagura? What are they going for? Kagura, she was going to a sports university, and Yomi, what was she going for . . ." Chiyo stopped; embarrassed that she had allowed herself to ramble on like that.

But Osaka seemed troubled by her rambling; as if she didn't know how to respond. "I-I . . . don't know."

"Sorry. I just haven't talked to them in so long."

"It's okay," Osaka said, though her voice seemed to say otherwise. Still, she went silent for a few moments, picture in hand. Then a sudden thought struck her and she asked Chiyo, "Can I have this? Or a copy is fine, please?"

A little surprised at the request, Chiyo nodded and said, "Sure, I think Kristina's parents have a copy machine. I'll be right back." And Chiyo took the picture from Osaka. Finding the machine only took a minute, as it was right next to the family computer. Chiyo removed the picture from its frame and quickly made a copy for Osaka. Returning, she found Osaka just as Chiyo had left her. "Here you go."

"Thanks," Osaka softly replied.

"Would you like to lie down," Chiyo asked, unable to take the fact that Osaka was very pale, and seemed in desperate need of rest.

"I'm fine Chiyo, really," Osaka responded. Giving in, Chiyo turned to her book bag to unload her homework. She really didn't like this. Osaka should be resting. But Chiyo felt uncomfortable with telling people older than herself what to do. It had bothered her in high school, but she really didn't have a choice as class president. "I just don't want you getting sick is all," Chiyo said as she turned back to Osaka, who only nodded.

May 8, 2003 

Peering over her book, Chiyo watched Osaka. She watched how her friend stared bleakly out the window. Osaka seemed to spend more and more time in her room. The scary part was, that Kristina and her parents still had no idea Osaka was even there. Every time someone would walk in, she'd disappear in that mysterious way of hers; something that Chiyo still couldn't get a straight answer on. But nevertheless, Chiyo worried. She worried because since the day Osaka arrived, she hadn't smiled. Since that day, Osaka has been despairing over something. Since that day, Osaka has been irregularly pale. Since that day, Osaka has slept barely a night. And since that day, Chiyo has not seen, nor has she been able to get Osaka to eat or drink anything. Whenever she'd ask Osaka to eat, the girl's answer was always the same: "Sorry Chiyo, not hungry."

But she had to think of something. Osaka couldn't go on like this. A plan springing to mind, Chiyo set the book down and stretched. "All this studying is making me kinda hungry," Chiyo said as she hopped off the bed. "Did you want anything?"

"No, that's alright."

"Okay," Chiyo said as she left the room and headed for the kitchen. Grabbing a box of Easy-Mac Macaroni & Cheese; Chiyo warmed up a bowl for herself. She snatched a spoon from the drawer and backtracked to her room. Upon entry, Chiyo kept close eye on Osaka as she returned to her bed. She noticed that the girl had indeed taken a brief interest in the steaming bowl. But Osaka remained silent. Chiyo pretended to ignore her friend as she resumed studying; occasionally stopping for a mouthful of cheese and noodles. And with every bite, she made sure to make as much noise possible to inform Osaka that it tasted heavenly. But Osaka showed no interest.

_If that's how you wanna play it . . ._ Chiyo glanced into her bowl, realizing that she'd eaten just over half of the Mac & Cheese already. Looking over to Osaka, the girl still had her eyes glued to the window, expression never changing. "Osaka," Chiyo called as she left the bed, carrying her bowl, "How are you feeling?"

"Fine," Osaka replied weakly, her breathing a little ragged, "Just tired."

Moving next to Osaka, Chiyo placed the bowl on her desk and said, "Well here, eat this. Then you can lie down for a while." About to refuse the offer, Chiyo interrupted Osaka and insisted, "Please, I can't finish it. And I don't wanna stick that whole bowl in the fridge."

Osaka licked her lips, obviously wanting the food, but she shook her head in dismay and said, "I can't. I'm sorry Chiyo, but I . . ." And suddenly Osaka's voice left her as she swayed over and luckily, Chiyo caught the girl by her shoulders or she would've fallen right onto the floor. Osaka's head swayed groggily. About to call for help, Chiyo stopped when a small whisper arose out Osaka, "Sorry Chiyo. But could I lay down for a bit?"

"S-Sure," Chiyo said, and to the best of her ability, helped Osaka out of the chair and onto her bed. Chiyo cleared away the books and made room for Osaka to lie down. "Are you alright? Did you want me to call someone," Chiyo asked, slightly panicked.

"No," Osaka breathed, "Just let me sleep." Chiyo reluctantly nodded. She moved her books to her desk, and watched Osaka sleep for the rest of the day.

* * *

><p>The irritating buzzing of an alarm sounded from Sakaki's pocket, causing her to jump. She reached in, and pulled out her cell phone. "Nine-thirty, already," Sakaki muttered in surprise. Had she really been in the mansion that long? Even more confusing, Sakaki couldn't remember ever setting her phone's alarm. Either way, darkness had settled in, and she needed to be getting back home. But the journal held her there. She couldn't believe what she read, nor could she stop.<p>

Sakaki flipped past a number of chew-up pages, and unreadable, smeared ink. As she flipped, she wondered whether or not she even believed the contents of the journal. Sakaki knew little about the supernatural, but she did remember Osaka's funeral; plain as day. Then Sakaki thought about Chiyo at that hospital, and what she must be going through. How Chiyo almost never smiled, and how she always appeared to be waiting for someone.

Her fingers finally landing on an intact entry, Sakaki discovered the date to be a couple months after the previous entry: September 26, 2003. Deciding this would be her last for the night, Sakaki started reading,

"I'm scared. I don't know what to do. I feel so helpless, so useless. Osaka is getting worse and worse by the day. I'm afraid if she doesn't get some help, she could get really sick. But she will not see a doctor. I won't make her see one, yet. But I'm going to have a meeting with Professor Ray. She won't be around next week so it'll have to be the week after. Anyway, I better not forget what I saw today. Let's see, I was eating with Kristina in the cafeteria . . ."

* * *

><p>"Listen Chiyo. I'm worried about you," Kristina said as she shoved another forkful of mashed potatoes into her mouth. "All you do anymore is spend time in your room. Last year, we only got out a couple of times and then you started disappearing. What's going on?"<p>

Chiyo stared hard into Kristina's pleading eyes. She couldn't tell her. Kristina would never believe her. After all, how many people can say they talk to their dead friend on a regular basis? But then again, is Osaka even dead? Chiyo felt horrible. She hated keeping things from Kristina. After all, her family was kind enough to offer Chiyo a place to stay. _If only you could understand, _Chiyo thought. Sighing, she eventually lied, "I'm just really nervous about my major. It takes a long time to become a doctor."

"Don't give me that, Chiyo. It won't work. Listen, I know you miss your friends and I know you miss that girl who'd passed away. And I'm sorry you haven't been able to return to Japan lately, but you can't let that get to you all the time," Kristina said, reaching into her book bag. "I'm not trying to be mean. I'm just trying to help. Here," Kristina said, and she handed Chiyo a sheet of paper, and advertisement. It promoted a band called, Rocky C. and the Foot Soldiers. About to ask, Kristina answered Chiyo's question before it ever left her lips, "They're really good. And they're gonna be playing at the amphitheatre across campus. I'm going with a few friends. Please, join us."

Chiyo studied the advertisement. The band appeared entertaining, and the whole event looked like fun, with free ice cream afterwards. But Chiyo worried about Osaka. She'd been running increasingly high temps for a while now. Was it really safe to leave her behind? "I don't know Kristina, I'm kinda . . ."

"Chiyo please, it'll be fun. You can live with one night of partying."

Biting her lip, Chiyo nodded. "I'll go."

A satisfied smile, Kristina exclaimed, "Great! You're gonna love it, I know you will! Malory has one of their CDs, I've heard it, and they're awesome. I was just gonna head over and hang out with her until it started. Wanna come?"

"Sure, but can we stop at you place quick? I want to drop a few things off." _And let Osaka know I'll be out. _Chiyo thought as she allowed Kristina to plan their night away, from dusk to dawn.

It didn't take long and suddenly Chiyo found herself outside Kristina's house. They'd listened to some pop group Kristina swore sounded just like Rocky C. "I'll wait in the car okay?" Chiyo nodded, and grabbing her things, hurried into the house.

At a light jog, Chiyo shoved the door to her room open and dropped off her book bag. She scanned the room for any sign of her friend, but none could be found. Uncertain as to whether or not Kristina's parents were home, Chiyo left her room to check the rest of the house. Entering the kitchen, she noticed a note on the table, simply informing her and Kristina that the adults in question were out. Feeling more comfortable without them Chiyo called, "Osaka? Osaka, can you hear me?" No answer. Heading towards the living room, Chiyo said Osaka's name again, but no answer. However, the closer she got to the bathroom, the louder the sound of running water became; like someone was taking a shower. Osaka had never before let anyone see her, so why would she take such a chance here?

Slightly nervous, Chiyo knocked on the bathroom door and called, "Osaka, are you in there?" Again, no answer. Feeling her heart starting to pound against her chest, Chiyo tried again, praying for a response. "Osaka, is everything okay?" Dead silence. _Please be okay. Please be okay._ Chiyo repeated as her fingers curled around the knob. "I-I'm coming in!" Chiyo opened the door and quickly stepped inside, giving herself no time for second thoughts. She was met by a wall of steam, and the sound of water pounding into the tub. Chiyo rushed over to the bathtub and discovered Osaka sitting inside, naked, curled up in the fetal position.

For a moment, Chiyo stood in shock. She didn't know what to do, or how to react. Here her best friend sat, curled up in a ball. Her vertebrae stuck out like speed bumps in her back; Chiyo could almost count them all. _I have to do something! _Chiyo thought as she grabbed Osaka's shoulder and shook her. "Osaka, wake up!" Chiyo pleaded. And Chiyo stopped. For the water had grabbed her attention. Steam emanated from the tub, from where Osaka sat. It fogged up the mirror and gave the bathroom that stuffy air which is always present with showers. But, the water coming out of the shower head was ice cold.

"Where's the steam coming from?" Frightened by the unusualness of the situation, Chiyo quickly grabbed her friend by both shoulders, ignoring the freezing water dampening her clothes. Shaking Osaka with all her strength, Chiyo begged, panicking, "Osaka wake up! Come on wake up!" But no response. Chiyo sighed, and only then got the idea to shut off the water. She felt Osaka's forehead and gasped. "Very high fever! She's burning up! What do I do?" Chiyo felt tears running down her face. She knew she was close to crying. And she fought it as hard as she could. "911! I'll call the hospital," Chiyo settled, and moved to grab a towel when a hand snatched her by the wrist.

Screaming in surprise, Chiyo turned to find Osaka, holding onto her wrist. Relieved, Chiyo wrapped her arms around Osaka and almost crying, said, "It's okay. You're gonna be okay. I'll call 911 and we'll find out what's going on."

Her voice raspy, Osaka managed to say, "No, I'm okay. No doctors."

Chiyo backed away from Osaka and looked into her eyes. How could Osaka refuse now? She could barely hold her head up. "You have to go. You're sick. You need help."

"Please Chiyo. I . . . I'm okay. Really."

Chiyo shook her head, tears in her eyes. Osaka's stare, stone hard and unfeeling; she gave two brief nods, soaking wet hair dragged across her face. Chiyo swallowed hard and released a soft whimper. She couldn't believe Osaka wasn't going to see a doctor. And she couldn't believe that she was going to allow it. Chiyo nodded, "I won't say anything."

The sound of a car roared outside and was gone. Kristina had gotten tired of waiting.


	4. Chapter 4

Well here we go with another chapter! And I want to thank everyone who has saved this story to their favorites and/or has placed the story on their alert lists (another thanks goes out to those who has done that for me). I can't wait to hear some opinions on how the story is going. Please don't be too shy to say something. And before you read, as a reminder, this chapter is taking place a day after Chapter 3. So without further ado, please read, review, and enjoy.

**Chapter 4**

October 7, 2003

With midterms sneaking through, Chiyo had just barely enough time to visit Professor Ray. That and registering for second semester, she could hardly balance the stress of studying and looking after Osaka. Osaka's fever had lightened a little, but Chiyo could tell that she had been terrified by how Osaka shook while stepping out of the bathtub. _It's okay Osaka. We're gonna figure this out. _Chiyo thought as she reviewed the things she had brought to Professor Ray's office. A list of symptoms, an edited journal entry, and an approximation of Osaka's height and weight; were the main things Chiyo carried into the office. The student finally finishing his registration, Professor Ray called Chiyo in.

When had seated herself across from her advisor, Ray said, "Alright Chiyo. What exactly are we dealing with? In your email, you mentioned some concern for an anonymous friend. What can you tell you me?"

Taking in a deep breath, Chiyo began, "Well, she doesn't want to see a doctor. In fact, she refused help after what happened in the bathroom. Here, read this." And Chiyo handed over the journal entry which had Osaka's name edited out. While Professor Ray read through the entry, Chiyo listed the symptoms she had noticed in Osaka. "She won't sleep. She won't eat or drink. Whenever I feel her forehead, it's always hot. She won't see a doctor but . . . but I'm worried about her." Chiyo lowered her eyes; guilty for betraying her friend. Osaka knew nothing about this meeting.

The professor only briefly flipped through the other pages that Chiyo had brought, but seemed uninterested. Handing everything back to Chiyo, she said, "Well, I think it's very brave that you came to me. I think you did the right thing. Without seeing her face to face, it's difficult to tell what's wrong with her. But she does need medical help. With any hope, she's eating when you're not around." Professor Ray opened a drawer and pulled out a slip of paper, handing it to Chiyo, she said, "Stanton has excellent medical facilities. If she would blackout again, like she did in the bathtub, call the number at the bottom. We've got some good doctors here."

"Thank you," Chiyo breathed, relieved that someone finally knew about Osaka. Maybe Professor Ray didn't know her by name, but she knows what's going on. Chiyo felt a tremendous weight lift off her shoulders. Gathering her things, she said, "Is there anything I can do for her?"

Nodding, Ray finished, "Keep an eye on her. Make her eat. I know it's hard, but she has to eat. And contact her family if you can. Maybe they can help."

Again thanking her professor, Chiyo left and headed straight for Kristina's house. Unfortunately, she and Kristina weren't on the best of terms. Kristina didn't exactly react too well when Chiyo wound up a no show at the concert. "Worry about that later," Chiyo said to herself as she walked.

Arriving at the house, Chiyo went inside and straight to her room. There Osaka sat, at her desk, staring at the copied picture Chiyo had given her. It'd gotten a little wrinkled since Chiyo last saw it; probably from being kept in a pocket. Just staring at it, Osaka only just acknowledged that Chiyo was home by nodding her head. Chiyo watched as Osaka traced a finger over their friends in the picture. Noticing her friend's expression, she saw the same broken face. It hurt her to always see Osaka like this. Always pained by something, never laughing or making jokes; Osaka couldn't even smile. Chiyo reasoned that it was this accursed sickness that her absent minded friend suffered from. But even that was gone as well. Osaka didn't have strange thoughts about things such as: why Rudolph's nose is red, or whether or not snails are allowed in a bug collection.

Not one word passing between them, Chiyo placed her things down and turned towards the kitchen. She intended to follow her professor's advice to the letter. _What would be good for Osaka to have? _Chiyo wondered as she scanned the cabinets. "Ah, this'll work," she said as she pulled out a can of chicken-noodle soup. Grabbing a microwaveable bowl, Chiyo opened the can, poured out its contents, and placed the bowl into the microwave. She figured it'd be best not to say a word until she had the food ready. The idea seemed harsh, and while Chiyo felt uncomfortable forcing this upon Osaka, she had to.

"I'm not hungry Chiyo," said a voice from behind, startling Chiyo.

"O-Osaka. I know you don't want to, but you have to eat. You'll never get better if you don't eat."

"But, I'm fine. I don't need . . ."

"Osaka," Chiyo shouted, surprising herself at the outburst. She immediately silenced herself, hoping no one would walk in. Releasing a deep breath, Chiyo calmed herself down a bit and continued, maintaining the sternness in her voice (she hoped), "I never see you eat. You always have a fever. You won't get better if you don't eat. And this stuff is good for you."

Osaka appeared speechless. She just nodded her head in defeat.

Feeling bad for yelling at her best friend, Chiyo said, "Sorry Osaka. I'm just worried about you. I don't like seeing you like this." The beeping of the microwave interrupted and Chiyo carefully pulled the hot soup out. Grabbing a spoon, she led Osaka to the living room, where she hoped it would be more comfortable. Offering her friend a seat on the couch, Chiyo sat right next to Osaka and handed her the bowl and spoon. Nervously, she uttered her feelings as Osaka only watched, "Anyways, I-I just don't want to lose you again. You're my best friend." Glancing at Osaka, Chiyo finished, "Please Osaka, eat."

Osaka stared down at the soup as if it were a foreign substance. She stirred the soup around with her spoon, and for a moment Chiyo thought she would refuse. But Osaka eventually lifted a spoonful of chicken and noodle out of the bowl, and slurped it into her mouth. She chewed and chewed, like someone was feeding her dirt or sand. After swallowing, Chiyo watched her friend hesitantly lift out another spoonful of soup to eat.

Satisfied, Chiyo relaxed in the couch a bit, her stress melting away. She'd done it. _Though this is probably just the beginning_. Chiyo thought. Unable to stop a smile from spreading across her face, Chiyo thought back to high school and said, "This is kind of like our first year at Kiyohiko." Osaka stared curiously at her as she forced down another spoon of chicken noodle. "It reminds me of when you had the hiccups. We tried so many silly things to get rid of them. And eventually, you gave them to me." Leaning forward, Chiyo noticed Osaka had stopped eating and now watched her very closely; like she was waiting for something. Ignoring it, Chiyo continued, "Wouldn't it be nice? If you could give . . . whatever you have to someone else?" A small chuckle escaped Chiyo's lips. She knew what she'd just said was wrong. But she couldn't help it. It just seemed so unfair for Osaka to suffer like this. "Sorry Osaka. I know that doesn't help at all. I just want you to get better."

Osaka's lips trembled and moved, slightly. Chiyo only just noticed, and then blinked. Was that a smile? Was Osaka smiling? If she was, it'd be a very small smile; but a smile none-the-less. Chiyo felt her heart racing. She suddenly felt like she could do something about her friend's sickness. She'd be able to help. It wouldn't be easy, but she could do it.

The moment, however, passed quickly as the bowl suddenly dropped out of Osaka's hands and she rushed to the bathroom. Panicked Chiyo chased after her. "Osaka! What's wrong? Are you okay," Chiyo hollered as she chased the girl down the hallway. But Osaka reached the bathroom first and managed to shut the door before Chiyo could get there. By the time she reached the door, she could hear Osaka inside, heaving. Chiyo's heart sank. Dry heaves, and nasty ones at that. Not needing an ear on the door, she heard Osaka throwing her entire chest into the heaves. With all the moaning and the groaning, Chiyo finally heard Osaka vomit into the toilet.

February 13, 2004

Another semester started, Chiyo sat in her room, worrying how she'd get through some of these textbooks. Sure, a few were only advanced gen-ed courses and she knew she could ace them. But some of the books related to her major just outright confused her. Chiyo knew becoming a doctor wouldn't be easy, but how intimidating for an introductory course to have a book with fine print and impossible to pronounce terms. "Maybe it's because I'm so young," Chiyo sighed, flipping through some pages. She'd have to at least try. And who knows, maybe it wouldn't be so bad.

"You okay Chiyo," Osaka asked.

"Yeah, these classes just look really hard," Chiyo explained, closing her book. She glanced over to Osaka and found the girl watching her, like always. Fortunately, Osaka hadn't gotten much worse in terms of her condition, but Chiyo still struggled with getting her to eat anything. Why just last week, Chiyo had managed to scrape up some Sata Andagi and figured Osaka would jump on it. She ended up eating maybe half of one and that was it. _Well, _Chiyo thought, _at least she's talking more. _"I just hope I can pass them."

"You will," Osaka said, in what Chiyo thought should've been an encouraging tone.

"I hope so."

"I know you will." Definitely not encouraged, she said it as if she knew.

Confused, Chiyo was about to ask "how Osaka would know" when the ringing of the telephone interrupted them both. The sudden noise jolted Chiyo out of her thought, and hurrying over to her desk, Chiyo picked up the phone. Osaka watched her as she answered. "Hello?"

"Hey Chiyo, it's me Kristina. I thought maybe you'd wanna go out tonight. Not really to do anything special. Maybe some shopping or a movie or something. Whatcha think?"

Remembering the concert from last semester that Chiyo missed, a long time had passed before Kristina even mentioned doing something with her. She felt horrible for wanting to say no, and she knew Kristina only meant well. Glancing to Osaka, who knowingly watched the conversation; nodded. _Well, she's been okay as of late. _ Chiyo thought. "Sure, I'll come. When are you gonna be here?"

"In about half an hour. See you then," and the excited Kristina hung up the phone with a click.

Chiyo rushed around her room to prepare a quick outfit. Not that she was picky, but it felt appropriate to dress up. Snatching a simple light blue skirt and white blouse, she said to Osaka, "If you need anything, call my cell phone. And make sure you eat something." Chiyo felt like a mother for saying all that, but she worried. Osaka's health hadn't improved; of course it hadn't worsened either. But, and Chiyo noticed this just recently, Osaka wasn't growing. From the time she first appeared two years ago, she hadn't grown an inch; nor has her body further developed. In contrast, Chiyo herself was in the middle of a growth spurt. She no longer fit in with Osaka's group.

"Chiyo," Osaka called, just as Chiyo opened the door to leave. She turned to face Osaka who looked very serious all of a sudden. At first, her hesitant friend remained silent. A sudden car horn broke the silence and shook Osaka back to reality. "Chiyo, have fun," Osaka said. About to leave, she stopped when Osaka called her again and said, "And whatever you do, stay off Newmon Road. Please."

"W-Why?"

"It's not safe," Osaka replied matter-of-factly.

The horn blaring again, Chiyo wondered how Kristina could be so lazy as to not even come into her own house. But, not wanting to disappoint the girl again, Chiyo nodded in agreement and left Osaka. She hurried outside and greeted, "Hey Kristina! What's up?"

"Not much, not much." Pulling out onto the road, Kristina said, "So, how do feel about seeing a movie?"

"What movie?"

Kristina smiled and said, "How about 50 First Dates?" Chiyo gave Kristina an awkward glance and her friend immediately defended, "Oh come on! It's Adam Sandler. I mean, as far as comedy goes, you don't get much funnier than him!"

"I don't know about that," Chiyo countered. And as Kristina started to argue, Chiyo laughed, "Just kidding! Sounds like fun."

"I knew you'd like it," Kristina finished. Then she trailed off into a rant about the movie and its plot. To Chiyo, it sounded as if she'd been following the movie's development for months. Not that it was any secret that Kristina loved Adam Sandler movies, but this seemed a bit much; even for her.

They arrived at the theater plenty early and found the perfect seats in the center section. With popcorn at the ready, Chiyo listened as Kristina described the supporting actresses and actors; and why she thought they belonged in the movie. "I mean, they could've found someone better, but I guess that's show business."

"It can't be easy," Chiyo admitted, to what she wasn't sure. The conversation had become too difficult for her to follow. Falling into silence, she nodded politely with the talk. Some noise from the screen interrupted the "discussion" and much to Chiyo's relief, the movie started. Chiyo watched with interest, deciding that she should enjoy the night out. Not the funniest movie ever, but certainly a satisfying watch.

"Well, what did ya think," Kristina asked, prancing out of the theater, very much unlike a college student.

"It was cute. I liked it," Chiyo honestly answered, feeling refreshed at finally having a chance to get away from all the stress.

"Glad you liked it! How about a bite to eat? I've got some Burger King Gift cards."

"Sounds good."

With the restaurant almost directly across the street, they managed to order their supper only minutes after leaving the movie. With a couple of cheeseburgers and fries on their tray, the two found a nice, small booth in the corner where they could chow down. "So," Kristina said, in between mouthfuls of fries, "Have you heard from any of your friends in Japan?"

"Well, I did finally get a letter from Sakaki. It sounds like she gave it to my parents, cause they mailed it to me. I even managed to get her cell phone number." Chiyo slouched in her seat, thinking of the letter that had only arrived a couple days ago.

"Is she going to college?"

"Yep," Chiyo nodded, "she wants to be a vet."

"Has she heard from any of the others?"

"No," Chiyo answered. That had been the most disappointing part of her friend's letter. Sakaki hadn't heard from anyone; nor could she get a hold of them. It seemed that even they wouldn't be free from the curse of graduating from high school.

"Well don't worry. I'm sure they're doing fine," Kristina assured, finishing her Coke. Chiyo had finished only seconds later and with both of them ready to go, Kristina said, "You want to hit the mall for a bit?" Chiyo nodded and soon they were well on their way.

The sun down and out for the night, Chiyo contented herself to watching the lights pass by her window. She wondered if her friends really were okay. Yomi, most definitely would be fine as she probably tied Sakaki with intelligence. Kagura, she was a worrisome one for while her athletics made Chiyo envious, her study skills and grades from high school did not. And as for Tomo, well she's in a category all by herself. Interrupting Chiyo's thoughts, Kristina said, "I know this shortcut that saves like ten minutes. It's a back road, but there's like no traffic. We can use it to get to the mall."

"What's it called," Chiyo asked, only half listening.

"I-I think it's called, Newmon Road."

"Newmon Road," Chiyo questioned. _Osaka said to stay off that road. _A terrible sense of dread began taking over. She suddenly felt uncomfortable in the car with Kristina. Why? Chiyo couldn't quite put her finger on it, but she just didn't feel right. "The long way's fine," Chiyo muttered, suddenly feeling dizzy.

"No it's right up ahead," Kristina pointed to a narrow road on her left. "Besides, then maybe we can lose that moron with his brights on behind us."

Osaka's words reverberated in Chiyo's head. "It's not safe." Weird, because though the road looked like every other road they'd been on; this one somehow was different. Feeling the car slowing down, Chiyo wanted out; but she didn't want to scare Kristina. Searching for another way, she spotted a gas station up ahead. "Uh Kristina, could we stop up there? I-I . . . need to . . . use the bathroom!"

"What," Kristina asked, shocked, "Why didn't you go at Burger King?"

Embarrassed and ashamed that she was letting Osaka's words bother her this much, Chiyo's gaze fell to the floor and she said, "Sorry. I just . . . I just don't wanna be on that road."

Completely stopped, Chiyo felt Kristina's piercing gaze on her. The girl obviously had no clue how to respond to such a remark. A horn suddenly blaring from behind must've shook Kristina out of her stupor and she finally said, "Fine," and passed the road by while the car behind them turned onto it.

A wave of relief immediately washed over Chiyo as they pulled into the gas station. The car stopping, she hopped out and headed inside. Since she'd mentioned the bathroom, Chiyo figured she'd better go. Entering the small restroom, Chiyo closed the door and leaned against a wall. Why'd she freak out like that? What was it about Osaka's words, and where did the sudden dizziness come from? Something told her she'd felt it before, but when? "Wonder if Kristina's mad," Chiyo asked herself.

Knowing she'd have to face her friend sooner or later, Chiyo stepped out of the bathroom, finding Kristina scanning the shelves. "So, you done?"

Nodding, Chiyo said, "Yeah. Kristina, I'm sorry about that. I . . ." But Chiyo wasn't able to finish. The squealing of sirens suddenly muted all other noise and Chiyo turned just in time to see a couple cop cars, two ambulances, and a fire truck shooting past the gas station. Both Kristina and Chiyo followed the lights with their eyes onto a turnoff.

Chiyo glanced over to the clerk just in time to catch her on the phone. "What happened? Oh my God is he okay? Really? What channel? Gotcha, bye." Flipping on the television next to the counter, a live report had just started.

The reporter stood on the shoulder of a dark highway, with sparking fire in the background. Chiyo felt Kristina moving next to her to hear the man as he gave his report. "Welcome back to Channel 6 news. This is Justin Robbins live at the scene of a tragic car accident. Minutes ago, a car traveling east here on Newmon Road was struck head-on by truck that was traveling in the wrong lane. Eyewitnesses claim it sounded like a cannon going off when they struck. No word on survivors as rescue crews . . ."

Chiyo watched in horrified silence as the cameraman took shots of the fire and wreckage. The reporter continued on, but she wasn't listening. Is this what Osaka meant? How did she know? Feeling eyes on her, Chiyo turned to meet Kristina's shocked gaze. "T-That had to be the car behind us. How did you know?"

"I didn't. I just got dizzy and . . ."

"Dizzy," Kristina interrupted. "You mean, like that time when you walked out of class your freshman year."

"I don't . . ."

"It was the time I came out after you . . . because of the power outage." Chiyo nodded, vaguely remembering the day. She couldn't recall much, but only that there was some kind of mist in the classroom that she'd seen. But what'd that have to do with anything? Then she noticed how Kristina fidgeted and dodged Chiyo's gaze.

"What is it," Chiyo cautiously asked, afraid to hear the answer.

"Well, when I told you there'd been a power outage. That wasn't entirely true." Kristina shifted uncomfortably as Chiyo pressed her for more. "You see, after you left the classroom, some of the cabling in the ceiling short circuited and . . . fell through the ceiling. If you hadn't got up to leave when you did, you would've been electrocuted."

"W-What?"

"The teacher didn't want us to tell you, because he knew you were going through enough. So we were only allowed to say that it was a power outage. I'm sorry Chiyo. I . ."

"That's okay Kristina," Chiyo answered absent-mindedly. She suddenly couldn't think. Chiyo stood frozen, glancing at the report on the TV, and then back to Kristina. She didn't know what to do. All she could think about was Osaka. Seeing that Kristina was waiting for a response, she said, "I'd like to go home now." Kristina didn't argue, but only nodded.

The ride home was plagued with silence. Chiyo couldn't speak and she knew Kristina was probably just a little scared of her. Chiyo's mind bustled with thoughts of Osaka. She thought about all those times that Osaka mysteriously disappeared on her. The whole ride, she plotted out her conversation with Osaka. She'd get her answers.

Arriving home, Chiyo exited the car and whispered her thanks to Kristina who only said, "Sorry Chiyo. Could you tell my parents I'll be home later?" Chiyo nodded as she entered the house. After locating the Mr. and the Mrs., she relayed the message and went straight to her room. Closing the door, she said, "Osaka, we need to talk." But no Osaka. And as Chiyo surveyed the room, she noticed a small piece of paper lying on her desk.

Picking it up, she read aloud, "I'm gonna try what you said. – Osaka."

March 12, 2004

_Will she be here? _Chiyo wondered as she again stood in front of the door to her room. Every day since Osaka had written that note and disappeared, she hoped that maybe Osaka would return. And what did that note even mean? "I'm gonna try what you said," Chiyo recited, "Try what?" Opening the door, her hopes died off again as she opened the door to an empty room. No Osaka. Recalling some of her first thoughts about seeing Osaka, Chiyo again pondered the possibility of it all being a hallucination. "But I gave her that copy of my picture. And, Kristina had heard the violin that time," Throwing her things on the bed, she drifted over to the desk and picked up the picture of her friends. "And she saved my life, twice."

CRASH! The door slammed shut and Chiyo whirled around. The sound had scared the hell out of her. She walked over to it, and opened the door; nothing. She glanced at the window by her desk; closed. Hesitating, Chiyo closed the door and turning back to her desk, there Osaka sat. Like a bug through the cracks, she must've slipped in. And though Chiyo wanted to hug her and yell at her and ask her where she's been, she couldn't. Because Osaka was different; still pale and despairing yes, but something else. Catching the girl's eye, Chiyo could see rage. Hesitant to disturb her friend, she eventually asked, "Osaka . . . how'd you get in," but the girl ignored her. Dropping the question, Chiyo tried again, "Where've you been? I haven't seen you in almost a month?"

"They're dead," Osaka stated, "Just like that. They're gone . . ."

"W-What do mean? Who's dead," Chiyo asked, feeling uncomfortable with how Osaka acted. She sounded nothing like herself. But Osaka only continued.

"I tried to warn them, tried to stop them. But they wouldn't listen. Didn't want my help," Osaka clenched her fists, enraged by whatever it was that she'd gone through.

"O-Osaka please, calm down," Chiyo assured, slowly approaching her friend, wanting to console her; but terrified to do so.

Finally looking Chiyo in the eye, Osaka angrily fumed, "They called me a monster! They said I was dead, and that I didn't belong there . . ."

"Who," Chiyo asked again. She truly wanted to help Osaka, but apart from being scared of her, Chiyo couldn't get Osaka to acknowledge her. Eventually placing a hand on Osaka's shoulder for comfort (who Chiyo now matched in height), she said, "Who? Please Osaka, let me help you."

Osaka finally noticed Chiyo and looked her in the eye. Without warning, she teared up and said, "I'm sorry Chiyo. I did something I shouldn't have."

"Don't worry about it. Please, who's dead?"

"Mr. and Mrs. Kasuga." Osaka's eyes then rolled back into her head and she passed out, falling to the floor. Chiyo frantically tried to catch her, but could only slow her fall to the ground.

"Osaka! Osaka!" No response from the girl. Chiyo knew what she needed to do. Whether or not Osaka wanted it, she would call for help. Tearing the phone off its base, Chiyo dialed the hospital on campus and when the emergency operator picked up, Chiyo gave the woman the address. "My friend just passed out and I know she's sick. She's been having high fevers and I don't think she's been eating. She needs help!" Taking instructions from the operator, Chiyo remained on the line and felt Osaka's forehead. Hot. Burning hot! _Osaka, what's wrong with you? _Chiyo worried as she soon heard the sound of sirens.

Arriving at the hospital, they pulled Osaka out on a gurney and rushed her into the emergency room. Chiyo seated herself in the waiting room, listening to some nurse asking her questions. She answered what she could, but ended up falling into silence. Guilt swept over her. _I should've done this a long time ago. Should've done it when I found her in the bathtub. I hope it's not too late. _Every minute passed with the length of an hour. Remembering what Osaka had said, Chiyo pulled out her cell phone and called Sakaki. When the raven haired girl answered, Chiyo quickly asked, "How's Osaka's parents? Are they okay?"

Sakaki, audibly taken aback, answered, "T-They passed away. Did someone tell you . . .?"

"When," Chiyo asked, her heart sinking.

"About three weeks ago. Chiyo, what's going on?"

"Sakaki, you won't believe this but . . ." But Chiyo stopped. A nurse stood in front of her, clearly waiting for her to finish. "Sorry Sakaki, I gotta go." Ignoring her friend's questions, Chiyo flipped her phone shut. She'd just have to call Sakaki back later. A quick glance at the clock and she'd only been there forty-five minutes. "Is she okay," Chiyo hesitantly asked, expecting the worst.

"Are you the only one who's . . ."

Interrupting the nurse, Chiyo explained, "She's just visiting. Her family is overseas. I couldn't get a hold of them."

The nurse didn't seem to buy it, but said nothing. "Her heart has gotten weak. It's barely pumping. We don't know what's causing the fever, and we can't get it down. She's sedated right now, so she'll sleep at least through tomorrow."

Dreading the answer to the question, Chiyo carefully asked, "Is she gonna be okay?"

"It depends on her."

Chiyo winced at the words, and wanted to cry. But she didn't. "Can I see her?"

"Yes you may. Follow me." The nurse led Chiyo down a winding hallway and through a set of double doors. A couple more turns and Osaka's room was right there. "I'm going to check her medical records. If I need anything, I'll come get you." Just before Chiyo could walk in, the nurse quickly asked, "uh, what was her name again?"

"Ayumu," Shoot! Chiyo couldn't think quick on her feet like that. She'd blurted her friend's name out only half hearing the nurse. _Oh well. It shouldn't mater_. "Ayumu Kasuga."

Watching the nurse disappear amongst the doctors, Chiyo turned to Osaka's room. Walking in, Chiyo found herself momentarily in shock. Machine after machine hooked up to Osaka like an overstuffed wall outlet. A slow and steady stutter from the heart monitor indicated just how weak her heart beated. The next stutter wouldn't appear till its predecessor had practically left the screen. Feeding tubes wriggled up her nose like worms, and even her face drowned in a respirator for safe measure.

Feeling tears trickling down her face, Chiyo cautiously took a seat next to Osaka and felt the girl's forehead. Fever had yet to back off. She watched Osaka's chest rise and fall with the respirator, breathing hoarsely into the mask. Brushing the bangs away from her friend's face, Chiyo quietly said, "Don't do this to me. Not again." Lowering her head, Chiyo began to pray.

"Chiyo? Could I have a word with you," came the nurse's voice.

"Sure," Chiyo sighed. Reluctant to leave her friend's side, she hesitantly moved to the doorway where she could easily check on Osaka.

"I couldn't find any records of Ayumu. Now did I spell her name wrong or . . ." and the nurse trailed off as she handed Chiyo a piece of paper.

"Well she doesn't attend Stanton. Like I said, she's visiting. She's from Japan."

"Oh. Well, do you know if she has any allergies?"

Chiyo thought for a moment, and shook her head. None that she knew of or at least none that Osaka had ever mentioned. "As far as I know, she doesn't take medicine for anything and she doesn't have any special conditions."

The nurse eyed Chiyo, apparently debating on whether or not she was trustworthy. Shrugging her shoulders, the nurse eventually said, "That being the case, I'll let the doctors know that the medication is a go." Scampering off, she hollered back to Chiyo, "Visiting hours will be ending. Not much longer!"

Worried about the quality of a hospital where a teenager can verbally provide medical information to staff, Chiyo wandered back into Osaka's room to check on the girl. At the very least, she'd be able to say goodbye and maybe talk to her friend tomorrow.

An annoying noise caught Chiyo's attention and when she looked, the heart monitor had flat-lined. Panicked, Chiyo hurried over to Osaka's bed, and stared in shock. Osaka was gone.

* * *

><p>". . . I ran out and got the nurse. They had the whole hospital looking for her. But we couldn't find her. I even walked all over campus and searched the house. How could Osaka disappear like that? The nurse said she'd been sedated . . . Kristina's parents are worried about me. And Kristina doesn't know what to do with me. I feel like I've betrayed them for not telling. But more than ever, I wanna go home."<p>

Sakaki finished reading the entry and turned the page for the next entry. Blank. Empty lines stared at her. Sakaki flipped another page, and another; but nothing. She flipped through the rest of the notebook only to find empty pages.

As Sakaki flipped, a small newspaper clipping fell out from between the pages. Picking it up, she realized it was in English. While it had been years since Sakaki had needed English, she managed to read the title of the article, "Sedated girl goes missing at the Stanton Medical Center." Sakaki attempted to read the article, but with the faded ink and her inability to fully understand the content, she gave up and set the paper down.

Too many questions remained unanswered. The majority of them revolved around the idea of Osaka being alive. _Still, something's going on. _She thought as she gathered up the notebooks and papers. She'd just have to discuss this with Chiyo. Sakaki wanted to know more about the time spent with Osaka, and why the journals stopped after the disappearance from the college hospital. Deciding to take the journals with her, Sakaki withdrew from the house and drove to the hospital.


	5. Chapter 5

Here comes a quick update for all you guys. Part of the reason, is that this chapter was already started when Chapter 4 was posted. So that is partly the reason for the quick update. I do want to mention that with this chapter, something very new will be occurring. I have started using some first-person perspective. Now it may sound odd (and maybe even dumb) to switch POVs like that, but give it a chance and let me know what you think. The story does start with third person. I'm really excited about this chapter so please leave a review if possible. Thank you very much and enjoy!

**Chapter 5**

3:30. Sakaki glanced at the time as she strolled past the clock in the hospital's lobby. The route to Chiyo's room had become like second nature to her. Sometimes she'd walk in, be distracted with something, and without even trying she'd end up in front of Chiyo's room. Today was a lot like that. The journals she carried under her arm felt heavy with the stories that she'd read. The way Osaka appeared and interacted with Chiyo, and how after Osaka's disappearance the journals stopped all together. What happened next? Sakaki wanted to know. And was it really all true? She couldn't tell.

Opening the door to Chiyo's room, Sakaki found her friend in the same state as always, gazing out the window from her bed. Only this time, Sakaki knew who Chiyo watched for. Taking a seat nearby, Sakaki placed the journals on the stand by the bed. "Chiyo," she calmly called.

"Hi Sakaki. How was work," Chiyo answered, her head still turned towards the window.

"Actually, I had the day off. I wanted to ask you something." Feeling a touch nervous, Sakaki waited for Chiyo's full attention. When finally Chiyo removed her gaze from the window, her eyes fell onto the journals that Sakaki had brought. She did not move to touch them, but she hurt just looking at them. "Chiyo, I'm sorry I . . ."

"No it's okay," Chiyo softly said, a shaking hand grabbing one of the journals. She flipped through a few of the pages and stopped only to read short segments. "I wonder where she is. When she's coming back?"

"Is Osaka alive?"

Before Chiyo could answer, a soft knock broke their conversation. Misagi-sensei stood in the entryway. Her young figure leaned against the trim as she said, "Sorry to interrupt you two, but Chiyo, you have another visitor."

Chiyo appeared at a loss for words. Sakaki, wondering if it could be _her_, said with just a hint of quiver, "It's okay. They can come in."

The twenty-something nurse nodded with an easy smile and ushered in an older woman wearing a polo shirt and jeans; who appeared to be about the same age as Sakaki, maybe younger. With the nurse gone, the woman stood in the doorway, eyeing Chiyo. She'd briefly glanced at Sakaki, but her eyes had found Chiyo shortly after. The woman appeared stunned by the state Chiyo was in. Sakaki couldn't blame her. When she'd first seen Chiyo come back from America that time, she'd known that her young friend would never be the same.

"Sorry for coming in like this," the woman spoke as her eyes stayed focused on Chiyo. "But I'd heard you were here . . . and I just had to see you."

Chiyo listened as she watched the girl sit across from her in a chair, close to Sakaki. Able to get a closer look at the woman, she reminded Sakaki of someone. Who, she couldn't put a finger on. When the woman finally noticed her stares, Sakaki apologized and said, "Do I know you? You just look very familiar."

A little embarrassed by the question, the woman weakly smiled and said, "Sorry. It's been so long I guess I just didn't think of it. It's me, Tomo. From high school?"

"Tomo?" Chiyo blurted out, much to the surprise of Sakaki. Her face suddenly beamed with excitement and for just a few seconds, Chiyo was back to normal. She excitedly rambled out dozens of questions, wanting to know everything about Tomo; her frail body shaking with emotion.

Taken aback, Tomo politely nodded to many of Chiyo's comments but eventually, Chiyo must've touched on a sensitive subject when she asked, "How's Yomi?"

Getting real quiet, Tomo's eyes fell to the floor and she whispered, "You didn't know? Yomi's dead."

"When did this happen," Sakaki asked, unable to believe that she hadn't heard anything about it. She read the papers daily and always listened to the news. Maybe it hadn't been released yet.

"Years ago. She died a long time ago."

Chiyo's enthusiasm quickly faded and she soon reverted back to her usual self. Her eyes fell to her bed and she forgot her voice.

"I'm so sorry Tomo," Sakaki apologized, placing a comforting hand on her friend's shoulder. "I never heard anything about it. How did it happen?"

"Well actually, that's kinda why I'm here." Tomo lifted her gaze and Chiyo did the same. "Chiyo, I'm not just here to see how you're doing. I'm here because I wanted to ask you something."

Chiyo nodded for Tomo to continue. With no easy way to say it, Tomo fumbled out her words. "I'm here because . . . Osaka had something to do with her death. Kagura's too."

Chiyo's head turned to the window, and for a moment, Sakaki thought she wouldn't say another word. Her frail body went stiff as she watched the window. In a soft voice, she said, "Sometimes, I wonder if it all wasn't just a bad dream. But now I know."

"You mean, you've seen her too?"

"Many times. When I was in college, and then after," she said, glancing at Sakaki.

"Then what about you? Have you seen her," Sakaki asked, unable to hold her curiosity. When Tomo nodded, Sakaki fell into a stupor. She didn't know how to react. Everything about this was wrong. Dead people don't just walk around with their "living" friends.

Interrupting Sakaki's thoughts, Chiyo asked, "Will you tell us what happened? I want to know . . . I want to know what she's done."

"It's kind of a long story . . ."

"We got time," Sakaki interrupted, wanting to hear everything there was.

Tomo looked at them both and eventually gave in, "Alright. Let's see. I might as well start with getting my first job at Keishicho, back in November of 2006. . ."

* * *

><p>Keishicho. Wow! I couldn't believe I'd actually make it here. The Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department. Just standing outside of headquarters turned my knees to jello. "I wonder when I'll get my own squad car, the Mazda RX-8," I said, admiring those beautiful beasts in the parking lot. It was too good to be true. And without Yomi's help through college, I probably wouldn't have passed my first year. We attended different colleges sure, but through the magic of email and instant messaging, I managed to scrape up some help with various classes.<p>

I relied on her too much during college, and annoyed the hell out of her. There were times I think she truly hated me, considering some of the emails that she'd sent. Oh well, all in good fun. But this, _this _was a huge step for me. I don't think even my parents believed I'd make it this far. After living with them all through college, I finally struck a break with the police academy where I had to live on campus. But now, with nearly empty pockets, I'd have to move back in. Except . . .

RING. RING.

My cell phone going off, I snatched it out of my pocket and answered. "Tomo! Where the hell are you? Why aren't you at my apartment?"

"S-Sorry Yomi. I forgot," I apologized into the phone, "I'm at Keishicho right now."

"You don't start today, do you," she asked apologetically.

"No, I just wanted a closer look," I said, "I'll be right over . . . And I won't forget your belly burners." CLICK. Didn't really want to hear what she'd say to that. I guess I've teased Yomi a bit too much. She's become very sensitive to the weight issue. And I should be nicer. After all, Yomi had managed to strike a deal with her landlord. I'd get the vacant apartment across from hers free until I received my first paycheck. And the best part, it was within walking distance of Keishicho.

Taking one final look at the towering giant of a building, I walked the five or six blocks to Yomi's apartment. It'd be third floor; no biggie. I knocked on Yomi's door and when it opened, I ducked just in time to dodge one of her trademark fists. "You're lucky this time Tomo."

"I know. I gotta stop doing that," I said, walking into her apartment. Small living room, small kitchen, small everything. But, it was better than buying a house. My things lay in boxes next to her door. Seven or eight of them; I'd be moving in today.

"Tomo, I told you I have work today. At this rate, I won't be able to help you very much."

"Don't worry. You'll just have to treat me later." That cheered her up a bit. With all honesty, I kind of wanted to unpack by myself. I wanted some time to adjust; and though it annoyed Yomi (like everything else I did), she'd get over it.

"You know, you sound like Yukari when you say that." I just shrugged. It was more of a joke anyway. Exasperated, I heard Yomi say, "So, what are you gonna do on your final days off?"

"I don't know. Maybe look over some of the things from the academy. Make sure I have the basics down . . . I might even go down a day early and get a tour. Have you seen that building? It's huge!"

As Yomi picked up one of my boxes, she said, "That's impressive Tomo. You're really serious about this cop thing aren't you?"

Grabbing a box, I realized how serious I'd gotten with law enforcement. Yeah the Interpol idea seemed kinda far out for me, but being a cop certainly was doable. "Well, I'm not a kid anymore. This is my life. And I wanna do something with it."

*** 2 Days Later ***

"And this Takino-san, is where you'll be spending most of your time," Chief finished, showcasing my desk already drowning in paperwork. Somewhere in there supposedly was a desktop computer and printer. "Those are just a few forms and releases that you'll need to fill out on your first day," Chief said, leeringly. Gulping, I got the uncomfortable notion that I'd better get used to that face.

"O-Okay? What about the computer?"

"Oh that. Well you'll be able to search the police database for information: fingerprints, news archives, and old police reports. Anything restricted or classified will require my authorization to view." Clapping his hands together, Chief concluded, "Thus concludes the tour of Keishicho." And slapping a hand on my shoulder, Chief laughed and said, "I have to admit, I am impressed. Not many people stop to say hello before they start here. Keep your chin up, and your eyes open, and you'll do fine."

Leaving Keishicho, I gawked at the Mazdas in the parking lot. Chief said it'd be at least two years before I'd get one. The majority of my first couple years sounded like paperwork, ride-alongs, and gradually being exposed to everything that would go on.

* * *

><p>"And the first two years were pretty boring. I think the most dangerous call I responded to with a senior officer was a domestic dispute involving a kitchen knife, a baseball bat, and lots of alcohol." Pulling out an old picture from her purse, Tomo handed it to Sakaki and Chiyo.<p>

Sakaki grabbed it and held it so both of them could see. It was a picture of Tomo; must've been taken shortly after she joined Keishicho. Full uniform, Japan's flag in the background; she looked so proud. Sakaki stared in awe, wishing she could've seen Tomo in the uniform. _She looks good in it._

"What about Yomi," Sakaki eventually asked.

"Well, she never did get out of that restaurant job. Yomi earned enough to pay her bills sure, but college had actually been kind of disappointing for her. I guess she didn't know what else to do."

"Tomo," Chiyo suddenly blurted, catching the attention of Sakaki and Tomo, "What about Osaka?"

Taking the picture back, Tomo covered her mouth with the end of a fist and stared into space for a few moments. When she finally spoke, she slowly said, "Something happened. I did something stupid. My first two years had gone so well that in 2009, I had the privilege of carrying a firearm." Tomo's voice quivered as she continued, "June 2, 2009; I'll never forget it. My shift was close to ending. I had just made a quick stop at a gas station for something to eat . . .

* * *

><p>"What to get? What to get," I repeated to myself, searching the shelves for a quick snack. With most of the day patrolling, I never had a chance to eat. Normally, I'd just wait till my shift to end before stopping, but today the stomach won. I snatched up a couple of candy bars and passing the DVD rental section, I stopped to browse the titles. A couple good ones, I wondered if Yomi'd be interested in a movie night. "Battlefield Baseball, that sounds good," I smirked, grabbing the box. But, how would it look for an officer to walk up to a cash register with candy and a movie? "Eh who cares," I shrugged, "I get off in an hour anyway."<p>

A loud crash broke the silence and from behind the shelves, I heard panicked voices. "What's going on here? H-Hey, don't point that thing at me!"

"Empty the register! Let's go!"

"J-Just don't shoot!"

Shit! Robbery! And from the sounds of it, an armed one at that. I'd never dealt with one head on before. _Think Tomo think! Be in the moment. _I repeated Chief's words to myself. Something Chief reminded everyone everyday was the importance of keeping your head in an emergency.

Adrenaline rushing over me, I knelt down out of sight and thought to myself. I knew the approximate location of the cash register. With it right next to the door, the criminal would make a quick exit. I'd have to surprise him. Using my radio was out of the question, he'd hear it.

Praying the cashier wouldn't give me away; I drew my gun and crept past shelves of magazines, newspapers, drinks, and all sorts of grocery items. Nearing the front of the store, I lifted my body to stand, and peaking past the shelves, I watched the criminal. He wore a brown leather coat, thick mane of black hair, and he was shaking. _Must be his first robbery. He's nervous. _We'd seen a small increase in robberies lately due to the hard economy.

People needed money, and unfortunately, some turned to stealing; which ironically almost never works. I'd say "get a job," but these people have probably been trying that for months.

"You," the man shouted at me, "out where I can see you! And get those hands up!"

I obeyed, slowly moving into sight, hands held behind my head. As the man stuffed handfuls of cash into his jacket, I tried reasoning with him. "Sir, don't do this. Even if you get away, the odds of a clean get-away are not good. It'd be better if you just . . ."

"Shut up!"

Shutting up, I considered drawing my gun; which apparently he hadn't noticed. He was too focused on the money in his pockets and the in the register. But I couldn't draw my weapon, not yet. With the robber's gun still aimed, if I were to make any sudden movements, he might shoot me or clerk. So I bided my time. Of course, being a gas station, that didn't take long at all. The cash register now empty, the man glanced once at the clerk, and twice at me. Lowering the gun he ran for the door. That's when I made my move.

Drawing my gun and taking aim, I commanded, "Stop where you are!"

But he ignored me. Out the door he went, and around the corner he disappeared. I couldn't let him get away. Not like this. Sprinting out of the store, I spun into the direction I'd last seen him. No one at first, but then a little ways down the alley, a man in a brown coat could be seen. I took aim and yelled, "Don't move!"

The man took one look at me and started to run. "Shit! Why can't you give up?" I snatched the radio off my belt as I chased him and relayed the situation to H.Q. "Stop," I shouted again but the guy didn't get it. "Stop or I'll shoot!" The thought honestly frightened me. Sure I'd shot before at the firing range, but never had I been in a situation where I need to shoot another human.

Still, the man continued on foot. No choice. I warned him. I stopped in my tracks. Lined up my target with the barrel; just as I'd been shown. Fingers squeezed the trigger. BOOM! Gun fired. Light smoke from the barrel. Man in brown coat went down.

I seen him fall and prayed he'd survived. At that distance, it was kind of hard to tell. At the very least, he convulsed. Gun still on the man, I ran over to his position.

Blood pumped from his chest. My heart sank. It'd been a fatal shot. "No, I didn't mean to . . ." I whispered as I looked at him to comfort. And then I noticed. Who was this? Not the robber from the gas station. My whole body trembled as I picked up the young boy's head and lifted him onto my lap. I pressed my hand to the wound, hoping to stop the bleeding. He only coughed up more blood, his eyes jittering back and forth from shock.

A boy of fourteen, maybe fifteen sat in my arms, dying. "Who are you," I screamed through the tears, "Why were you running? I wasn't after you. I didn't want to shoot you." Why'd he have to be here? Why'd he have to run? Then the boy reached into his jacket and extracted a small Ziploc bag of white powder. Drugs? Is that why he was running?

With his eyes losing focus, the boy muttered, "S-S-so-rry . . ." And his body fell limp in my arms. Right there, my stomach somersaulted. I wanted to throw up. Holding the still boy close, I started to cry. And in the distance, sirens.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

"What the hell were you doing Takino," Chief roared throwing down my report. "From what you wrote, there's no way you could've identified the suspect! Not at that distance!"

"B-But I told him I'd shoot," I couldn't even lift my head to say this. Only a few hours had passed since it happened. I think I was still in shock. "I must've shouted two, three times. But he ignored me . . . and for an ounce of weed."

Exasperated, I heard Chief sigh, saying, "Officer Takino, did it ever occur to you that the gas station might my surveillance footage? I know what you were trying to do. The right thing. And as an officer of the law, determining what that is can be difficult. But you gotta think!" I heard Chief pace around me. And I waited for him to say what I knew was coming. "A man with black hair and wearing a brown coat? Do you know how many people in JAPAN fit that description?"

"B-but . . ."

"But nothing. We have a family pressing us for answers as to why a police officer shot and killed their fourteen year old son. Tomo-san, for the moment, I want your badge, your gun, and your uniform. We'll discuss this later."

Without question, I turned in both my gun and my badge. Everything since the gunshot just flew past me. I couldn't think, could hardly speak. But I felt the stares of everyone in the building as I walked to the locker room. News spread quickly at the station. And Chief's walls weren't sound proof. The gunshot repeated with every step I took. Looking down the barrel, seeing the boy running from me, and pulling the trigger. I never even thought about where to aim; I had just lined up my sights and fired.

Finally entering the woman's locker room, I entered as quickly as possible and found Saegusa-san changing as well. One look at her face told me she knew. But after that I kept my eyes averted as I unbuttoned my top. Fortunately she was one of the more sympathetic officers. "Are you alright Takino-san?"

I didn't answer. I just stripped my jacket off and dropped it to the floor. When I'd started working, I'd been taught to treat the uniform with the utmost respect. Yet tossing the shoes onto the jacket was hardly a problem today.

"Takino, don't be too hard on yourself. It was an accident. You were only doing what you . . ."

"Have you ever done that," I couldn't help it. Something about her pissed me off. Which couldn't have been anything because she's so kind. But she spoke as if she knew; as if she knew what I was going through. "Shot the wrong person? Shot a kid? Killed someone? Have you?" She shrunk at my raising voice but I didn't care. She shook her head and I shouted, "Then shut up!"

As hard as I fought the tears, they just kept falling. I needed to get out of here. But I still had my uniform to turn in. How could I go back out there? How could I face him like this? "Tomo," Saegusa weakly said, and resting a hand on my shoulder she cooed, "I'm so sorry. Go home and rest. I'll take care of things here."

Whimpering, I nodded. After I finished changing, Saegusa led me out the locker room and out an emergency exit. Not exactly allowed, but it prevented me from walking past some of the busiest places in the building. When she turned to head back in I whispered my thanks for my voice had all but left me and said, "Sorry. I didn't mean to . . ."

"Don't be. You're upset. Call me if you need anything." And with that, she left me alone in the evening breeze.

I stumbled my way through the sidewalk, not really paying attention to where I was going. I couldn't get the boy's face out of my head. Coughing up blood, the jittering eyes; I watched him die. Over and over I watched him die. It just wouldn't stop. Nearly tripping over a trash can, I suddenly realized that I'd been going in circles. The apartment just a few houses down, I trudged up the stairs and into the apartment. Slipping past the front desk, I hit the third floor as fast as I could and hurried into my room. I just wanted to be by myself. Once inside, I fell onto my bed and buried my head in my arms.

I don't know how long I laid there; thinking about everything. The phone suddenly rang, and I turned over in bed, wondering whether or not it was worth answering. On the fourth or fifth ring, I finally drug myself out of bed to answer. It was Chief. His voice was soft, but stern. "Hey Takino-san. Listen I'm not one for beating round the bush so I'll get right down to it. You're on suspension. Two months, no pay. Take it easy for a while. When you get back, it'll be a desk job for some time. And don't expect to ever carry a gun again."

I nodded into the phone, knowing he couldn't see me, but what else could I do?

"Don't beat yourself up to much. You're a good cop Takino-san. I'm proud to have you here . . . Take care," and he hung up.

I spent much of the night pacing and just laid in bed all the next day. Before I knew it, Yomi was sitting next to me. If she had knocked, I didn't hear her. All I knew is that one moment I was alone, and the next Yomi was sitting right next to me, brushing my bangs away from my face.

* * *

><p>". . . It didn't take long and I broke down there in her arms. I told her everything," Tomo said, shaking her head. She eyed the floor as she did so. The other two had been shocked into silence. Neither Sakaki nor Chiyo could come up with anything to say for comfort. Though that was probably out of the question anyway; with as long ago as everything had happened. Taking a deep breath, Tomo eventually continued, "I couldn't sleep for weeks. Every dream had been the same." Silently chuckling to herself, Tomo finished, "It's just something you can't live down. All the "what ifs" and "if only I would've . . ." they just drag you down."<p>

A long silence followed, where no one could say anything. Sakaki, the first able to speak, muttered, "Why didn't you quit?" Hugging herself, she said, "I never would've been able to go back."

"I almost didn't. I was so close to quitting. Even talked it over with Yomi. But in the end, we decided it'd be best to try one more time." Tomo fidgeted for a bit and then glanced over to Chiyo, who eyed her expectantly. She remembered how sincere Chiyo had been in high school, but that was then. Chiyo anxiously awaited the next portion of her tale, waited to hear about a certain someone. Whatever Chiyo's experienced with Osaka, it must've stuck with her. But Tomo didn't blame her for that. She'd never forget what Osaka said to her, what Osaka showed her. "Anyways, all I saw for about three years was paperwork. I'd walk to my desk, sit down, and that'd be the day. Filing, filling out reports, figuring numbers, and doing data sheets; if a piece of paper needed work, odds were it landed on my desk. Then one day in 2012, right after the Summer Olympics, I got called in to Chief's office . . ."

* * *

><p>"Well that's great Yomi! What's his name," I asked excitedly through the telephone.<p>

"Hitoshi Yuuko," she hardly contained her enthusiasm as she explained, "I met him a couple weeks ago at work. He was just having lunch and the second he saw me, he said he was entranced."

"Though now that I think of it, you having a boyfriend before me sounds kind of suspicious. What his name? Hitoshi Yuuko? I think that guy's on our wanted list. I'm gonna have to ask you . . ."

"Shut up Tomo," Yomi said, sighing. But she'd been in too good a mood to let me spoil it. "Well I'll see you later Tomo. I know your break is ending."

"It is? Oh it is," I said, peaking at the clock. "Bye Yomi," hanging up, I thought about Yomi and what she said. Honestly, I was happy for her. As sensitive as she'd become about her weight, I didn't think she'd find a boyfriend. Not to mention Yomi hadn't been feeling well lately. So it was nice to hear her in such high spirits.

Back to reality, the overtime papers had somehow managed to pile up on my desk during the ten minute break. "I better start somewhere," I said, snatching a sheet from the pile.

"Takino-san. I need you in my office," came Chief's deep voice.

"Now what," I muttered as I grabbed a file off my desk and trudged across the room and into his office. Once the door had closed, I briefly glanced around the room which looked like something out of a cop show. Very cliché, I had to admit. Not much had changed since I last visited his office, except now he had those stupid blinds on all the windows; even the one to his door.

"Here's the report on the month's traffic violations," I said, dropping the file folder onto his desk.

"That's not why I called you in here Takino."

"Well if it's about the overtime papers, I don't know when I'll get them done. I just . . ."

"Shut up and listen." Fair enough. I shut my mouth and watched Chief pull out a file from his desk. Opening it, he handed me a brief summary of the report and said, "It's about a possible missing person case I want you to look into."

"What do you mean? You mean I . . ."

"I mean I want you to drive up to the house listed in the report and see if you can find anything." Chief said, handing me a picture. "This girl, Kagura, hasn't been seen at work for a while and no one has been able to contact her."

I couldn't believe it. My first outing in three years and it involved one my high school friends. It worried me. Not having seen Kagura in so long, what would happen if I did find her? And in what state? _Knock it off Tomo! Ya can't think that. _The last I heard of Kagura was that she had entered one of the surrounding colleges that specialized in athletics. But how useful could that be after college?

"Tomo," I jumped out of thought at hearing my name. Chief, who stared me down with the eyes of panther, said, "I know this is different for you . . . especially after _that. _But you'll be fine."

"That's not it," I said, staring at the picture again. "I just . . . Nevermind. I'll take care of it and report back after the inspection." If Chief knew about my acquaintance with Kagura, he might've changed his mind.

Driving to the house, I glanced again at Kagura's picture. Recent? I wasn't really sure. She looked almost exactly as she did in high school. But Kagura liked to stay fit. I remembered that much. She never missed a day with running. More commitment than I ever had with anything then; with the exception of annoying Yomi.

Arriving at the house, I stepped out and upon further inspection, damn what a nice house! I mean it wasn't big or anything, just a simple two story deal. A person could live comfortably in here, and without taking up too much space. Stepping inside, the first thing I noticed were the stairs leading up. They were only a couple of feet from the door.

"Kagura," I yelled, "It's me Tomo! From high school? Kagura, are you home?" No answer. I'd have to search the house. Walking past the stairs, a hallway curved around them to the left and led into a kitchen. But taking a quick peek inside, all I found was dirty dishes stacked on the cupboards and piled in cold, stagnant water. Bags of chips, cookies, and such littered the area around an overflowing garbage can. Something wasn't right. Sure Kagura had been a bonkler in school, but this didn't fit her. She seemed more like the type to keep a clean, orderly house. Not quite like Yomi, but better than me.

I stepped back out into the hallway and noticed a few other dead end doors. A bathroom in one and a small, empty bedroom in the other; nothing of importance there. Retracing my steps, I gazed up the dark, steep staircase. With nothing but a police baton on my belt for protection, I decided to save that for last. The only other door I hadn't tried was immediately to the right of the staircase.

Opening the door revealed a large living room. On the far wall sat a television with a couple of comfy chairs and loveseat all huddled around it. On the wall adjacent to me stood a massive bookshelf. Books aside, its main purpose served as photo album. Pictures of Kagura and family adorned the shelves and only allowed for a handful of actual books. Quite a few from swimming meets and one picture had the whole gang in it.

But what caught my attention was the trophy case. It stood on the same wall as the door that I had entered. Empty. Dusty. And down in front, on her knees, sat Kagura. She watched it as if in some kind of a trance. With her greasy hair and the stains on her clothes, she must've been sitting there for a couple of days. Even though she had once been my friend, if she was experiencing some sort of breakdown or mental deterioration, then she might attempt to attack me. I slowly approached her, and kept one hand on my undrawn baton for comfort. "Kagura," I gently called, "Kagura, it's me. Tomo. Didn't you hear me at the door?"

No response.

"We went to high school together," I said, as I knelt down next to her. But still, she said nothing. Her eyes remained fixated on the dusty trophy case. Thinking for a moment, I glanced at the picture of us on her bookshelf and got an idea. Grabbing it off the shelf, I returned to Kagura and held the picture in front of her. "Here Kagura. We're all here. There's Chiyo," I pointed, "And Yomi, and Sakaki, and you. There's Osaka. Remember her?"

Kagura's eyes fell off the trophy case and onto the picture. She stared at the picture hard, like she was trying to solve a puzzle or find a hidden image. Then, in a low whisper, Kagura said, "This picture. She's in it; along with everyone else." Kagura's fingers traced over the figures of each person in the picture and continued, "This was the only thing she really looked at. She picked it up and . . . the picture upset her somehow . . . like she wished to go back." Kagura broke off as her eyes focused on me. "She was here Tomo."

A little weirded out by Kagura's peculiar behavior, I asked, "Who was here?"

"Osaka. She was here. She stood right next to this case and spoke to me."

She watched me, waiting for a response. And suddenly I felt something seriously wrong. "Kagura, Osaka's dead. God it's been . . . ten years since she died."

Kagura, convinced by what she saw, said firmly, "She's not dead. At least, I don't think she is. Osaka came to me. She wanted my help." Well she believed what she said. That much I had figured out. That whatever Kagura had seen, she truly believed it to be Osaka.

I'd have to call Chief. But I didn't want to just leave her like this. So I pressed further. Maybe I'd get some explanation as to what she was saying. "Tell me what me happened. Take a deep breath, and start at the beginning."

She shifted in place on the floor; her eyes darting around the room, trying to decide where to start. Then eventually, she said, "Well, I guess I should tell you what happened in college first . . ."

* * *

><p>Swimming practice. I pushed myself harder here than anything else on campus. In the water, that's where I felt I could really accomplish something. The front crawl, my favorite, shot me through the pool like a bullet. We'd just finished in the top five at a district competition, and the 2005 finals were coming up. I propelled myself through the water, only seeing the other end of the pool. I'd occasionally catch sight of Coach's legs, as she evaluated our performances. I couldn't let her down, I wouldn't let her down.<p>

"Kagura," called the coach.

I slowed to a stop as small waves rushed on ahead. The rest of the swim team continued on either side as I answered, "Yes Coach?"

"Can you stay after practice today? There's something we need to discuss."

"Y-Yes. That's fine." Uh-oh. I knew what that was about. When I said I pushed myself the hardest with swimming, I wasn't kidding. As much effort as I forced into my classes, a C- ended up as the best score. I promised Coach I'd work harder on improving my grades, but with the swimming finals coming up, I couldn't just slack off.

Practice continued with some difficulty. I couldn't stop thinking about my last meeting with Coach. We had discussed ways of improving my grades and receiving extra credit. Test taking and note taking, and seeking help in the library; how could I fail her?

I eventually left the water and took a seat, waiting for practice to end. When the final swimmer had left the pool, I walked over to Coach's office and knocked on her door. My swimsuit still on and a towel wrapped around my body for drying, I watched as the door swung open.

Inviting me in, she said, "Kagura, do you know why I had you stay after?"

Hesitating, I answered, "We're having another meeting on my grades?" Her eyes followed me to a chair as I continued, knowing the direction of the conversation. "I know I've slacking off with my homework. But the finals are coming up. I don't want to let you down."

She placed a comforting hand on my shoulder and said, "Kagura, you let me down when I hear you're failing a class. And with the scores you got on your entrance exam, I know you can do better. Remember . . ."

"I know, I know," I said, ashamed for letting her down, "I wasn't born with fins."

"Good. Now that that's settled, on to the reason why I had you stay after."

"Huh? But wasn't it for . . ." She silenced me with a finger.

"The reason why you are here is because of a phone call that I received just last night." Coach paused as she pulled out a notebook with some scribbling on it. Had I done something wrong? "Yesterday, Japan's Olympic Committee called expressing an interest in one of my swimmers. They're looking for someone to compete in the 200 meter women's freestyle swimming event for the 2008 Summer Olympics in Beijing."

The way Coach explained, it was like she had transcribed the whole telephone conversation. And with my mind in temporary shock, I almost asked, "Who?" Instead, I asked, "Me?"

Coach nodded, a brilliant smile spreading across her face. She couldn't stop smiling as she plucked my hand from my lap and shook it. "Oh Kagura, I couldn't wait to give you the news. Congratulations!"

"W-Why me?" Why not someone else?"

"Oh don't be silly! You have broken a number of school records since you've been here, not to mention a couple of national records as well. You already have a division championship under your belt." Finally releasing my hand, she relaxed in her chair and crossed her arms. "They told me you're going places, and they want the Olympics to be one of them."

I had felt tears running down my cheeks some time ago. I was so happy I started to cry. It felt too good to be true. There was nothing that special about me. Heck I couldn't even keep decent grades. Coach eventually leaned in to hug me, but I stopped her and asked, "Are you sure they want me? I mean, this is all so sudden. Isn't it a little late for this?"

"It's a last minute thing for them. I don't even think Japan was going to participate in the even till they heard about you." And raising an eyebrow, Coach said, "But if you still don't believe me, then listen to this. Next Saturday, two officials from the Olympic Committee are coming here to watch you swim. They'll be timing you, and they'll want to see how much stamina you have. After the swim, we're all gonna meet so you can ask any questions you like. So what do you think?"

Hardly controlling myself, I said, "I-I'll be there." And with that, our meeting was over.


	7. Chapter 7

Well, here we are with another chapter and I am quite excited! This one will have some abrupt jumping around so I hope you will enjoy it. I don't have much to say except read, review, and enjoy!

**Chapter 7**

"How'd it get here so fast," I asked myself, sitting in the locker-room, already changed for my big swim. I only half glanced at the calendar on the bulletin board. "March 11, 2005. A day that will certainly live in infamy . . . Wonder if they're here yet?" I couldn't move. After changing into my swim uniform, I had fallen onto the bench. Something this big, how'd it happen to me? Did I even have a chance at getting in? And with only three years to prepare, would the work even pay off? Chills rolled down my body as more thoughts rushed with the growing adrenaline. Remembering the past week, over half of my time had been spent here, practicing. Practicing my strokes, my pace, my breathing; practicing something that my mom had once caught me doing in my sleep. "And here I am shaking . . ."

Footsteps treaded over my thoughts as I caught sight of Coach walking into the locker-room. Concern covered her face. Obviously worried, she sat down next to me and said, "Kagura, you've been in here for over twenty minutes. What's wrong? Nervous?"

I gave a sort of sarcastic laugh and said, "I don't know about this. I mean, I've been practicing for today all week and there are other people who practice this stuff their whole lives and they don't get in. And I wasn't even trying to make the Olympics till last week. What makes you think I'll do any better?"

"Kagura," Coach said softly, wrapping an arm around my shoulder, "How long have you been swimming?"

"Since I was five but . . ."

"But _that_ is almost your whole life. Quite a few people who've been in the Olympics started swimming right around that age. What makes you any different?"

"Because for them, it's been their life. I don't swim or train for that kind of thing very often. I don't swim religiously."

"Now wait a minute, for someone who got a "B" score on their entrance exams and suddenly can't get more than a C- for their grades certainly has to be doing something religiously. What are you worried about Kagura?"

Biting my lip, I answered, "I'm afraid I won't be good enough. What if I screw things up? What if I do something wrong? What if I . . ."

Shushing me, Coach soothingly said, "If you don't get in, then you aren't out anything. You tried. And no matter what happens, you're still the star of my swimming team. You got that?" I nodded as her eyes bore into me. She just wanted me to do my best and I felt a little stupid for worrying her.

"Thanks Coach," I mumbled embarrassedly.

"Anytime. And don't worry, they understand you're nervous. Just don't let those slinky pushovers get to you."

I watched Coach leave and I released a long sigh. She certainly had a way with words. Still, that didn't change the fact that my training and an Olympic athlete's training weren't the same. "Oh well, like you said, I gotta do my best." Getting off the bench, I walked as confidently as I could out of the locker room. Two men in suits stood talking to Coach. They kind of reminded of that foreign movie, The Men in Black. One even wore sunglasses. Both of them carried clipboards tucked under their arms

When I stepped out, they both turned to face me, and I suddenly felt embarrassed with their eyes sizing me up. The older of the two, the one without sunglasses was the first to speak as he grabbed my hand and shook it ferociously. "You must be our future gold medalist. It's a pleasure to meet you. My name is Sugata and that man over there is Sakiyama-san." Sakiyama-san only nodded in our direction at hearing his name; he seemed more interested in Coach than anything.

"Well come now. Let's get started," Sugata-san exclaimed, not giving me a chance to say a word. He dragged me to the pool with the strength of someone half his age. But his enthusiasm was contagious as he slapped my back and said, "You know, I first heard of you from a colleague of mine. She told me all about you and how she ignored her own daughter's performance during a swim meet just to watch you." I couldn't help but feel a pang of pride stabbing my chest.

"Thank you," was all I managed to say before Sugata-san nodded with delight and took a seat next to Coach and Sakiyama-san on a set of bleachers. Coach had already explained to me the test swim. I'd be swimming a 100 meters for the two men in our 25 meter pool, so it meant a couple of turn-arounds but no biggie.

And so I stood, till Coach's whistle broke the silence and I dived into the water, propelling my body with the front crawl stroke. While trickle breathing, I paced myself to a two beat cycle. My arms pulling me through the water, I quickened the pace but only slightly. Twenty-five meters later and I was still going strong. My breathing regulated and my arms syncing with my legs, I shoved forward. Fifty meters, then seventy-five. My muscles had started to tire, but I shoved on and soon the last twenty five meters passed and I was grabbing the side of the pool to hoist myself out.

A soft wave of applause drifted over from the bleachers. Sugata-san clapped enthusiastically while Sakiyama-san clapped slowly, shocked by my performance. Coach clapped the hardest and made me wonder, just what was my time? Wrapping myself in a bathrobe, we met in Coach's office where Sugata-san explained, "Kagura, for one-hundred meters, we timed you to be at a minute and a half. How do you feel? Think you'd be up for more swimming?"

"I feel great," I said, taking note of my fatigue, I continued, "I could probably go a few more laps."

"Excellent," Sugata-san reveled and said, "well then Kagura-san it's decided. Should you be interested, Japan would love to have you represent us at the 2008 Summer Olympics."

Almost crying from relief, I exclaimed, "I'd love to. It'd be an honor."

"Well then it's decided. We'll start making arrangements immediately."

I couldn't believe it. I was actually going to participate in the Olympics! I flung myself at Coach and cried I was so happy. She started tearing up as well and I could hear her saying how much she was going to miss me and how I had to work on my studies. Everything would change. They had strict policies where I was going to train. Classes in placement of college, swimming training, dieting, and various exercises; it sounded as if I'd have no free time. But it'd be worth it. And so I joined Japan's Olympic Team for 2008, wondering whether or not I'd even survive the first rounds in the competition.

*** 1 Year Later ***

"Alright Kagura, August is almost here so we've got two more years of practice. Let's start cutting in on your time." Sugata-sensei said, pulling out his stopwatch. We'd been working on endurance exercises to regulate fatigue and keep my speed up all throughout the match. I always seemed to tire out on the last 25 meters and my time suffered greatly. But I couldn't stop, not yet. We still had a few more things to do before the end of the day, and I certainly wasn't going to let Sugata-sensei down.

I dived into the water and heard Sugata-sensei shout, "Work on your diving! Too much splash." Mentally noting his suggestion, I wind milled my arms, grabbing at the water in front of me. I felt an increase of speed as I hurtled at the opposite end of the pool. Finally reaching the other end, I dived under and using me feet, launched myself back at Sugata-sensei. In previous swims, I had attempted to keep track of time mentally, but that only interfered with my swimming. Thus, I quickly gave up on that.

As fast as I had started, I suddenly found myself on the last twenty-five meters again. I could feel my chest beginning to ache. The other end of the pool looked so far away with the quick glances I managed to snatch. But I launched myself forward and soon grasped the finish line. Gasping for air, I looked up to Sugata-sensei who checked his stopwatch and said, "Two minutes and fifty-four seconds. Not bad but you gotta do better. We'll practice more, but take a break first."

Nodding, I hopped out of the water and found a seat. Training three days a week was tough, and we'd eventually be moving it up to four. Oh well, I'd worry about that when it happened. And even when it did, we'd be practicing for a slightly shorter time each day with more resting. But what did that matter? I loved swimming; the only downside to this place was the education. Sure I received a variety of classes, but the teachers were second rate. No homework, short classes, and all lecture. I passed merely by attending.

"Kagura," a voice from behind called. I turned to find one of the coaches signaling me. "Phone."

Walking over, I grabbed the receiver and said, "Hi mom." Though she was the only one to call, I still happily answered; grateful that I had a family who cared. I knew a few girls here who've been training here for months and were simply dropped off by their parents with the order "don't come back till you win us a medal." Sadly, none of them appeared to be enthusiastic about swimming.

"Hey Kagura. How are things going?"

"Not too bad. I managed to get my time just under three minutes; even though I've got a long way to go."

"That's great Kagura! I know you'll work hard on that. How are your classes?"

I grimaced at the question. How could I put it? "They're going fine. I got by with no homework tonight."

"Good for you Kagura," my mother lauded. "We're all very proud of you." And I could hear mom nearly crying on the other end.

Just hearing her teared me up as well. "Please mom, don't do that . . ."

"Sorry. Sorry," she quickly said, the crying coming to a halt, but her voice retained a small quiver. "So, how late are you practicing today?"

"I'll probably be done in a couple of hours, no later than five. But then I'm going back to my room."

"Oh I see," mom said, and I could picture her nodding into the phone. She then continued on about some things that were going on at home and such. We conversed for almost twenty minutes when I caught the agitated glare of Sugata-sensei. He didn't like waiting on people.

"Sorry mom. I'll have to go. Talk to you later. Yep, I love you too." I quickly hung up the phone and hurried back over to my personal trainer.

"Kagura-san, your break ended five minutes ago. It's wasted time like that that will cost you in the Olympics."

"I know. I'm really sorry Sensei." Even though I apologized, he continued to stare me down. One could call me a habitual offender. Whenever mom called during practice, I wasted no time in wasting time with her. Sugata-sensei didn't like it, but it was one of my few connections to the outside world. Still, he seemed a little harsher today.

We trained nonstop up until five. When finally Sugata-sensei called it a day, I could barely walk to the locker-room my legs were so worn out. Fortunately the next two days would be practice free. I'd have time to rest my legs and catch up on sleep. With it already being mid-July, we were preparing for an Olympic test run. Maybe that was why Sugata-sensei pushed me so hard today. Though the test run would be nothing special, it'd give me my first chance to compete in more than a year.

Swinging my arms to loosen them up, I sighed and said to myself, "Ah what should I do tonight?" Leaving the locker-room and exiting the training facility, I walked in the direction of my "dorm," pondering the question. "Guess I could play some GTA but I got the whole weekend to do that. Wonder if there's any good movies playing?"

Shrugging it aside, I located the building, no special name; it was just called "the dorm" when the words "apartment complex" fit much better. I had more room than I knew what to do with. But it made it easy to get together with a bunch of other people and everyone'd fit into one room, with plenty of leftover space.

Upon entering, I walked down the narrow hallway; yeah the rooms were huge and the hallways were tiny; that makes perfect sense. Oh well, at least I live on the first floor. I'd heard some nightmarish tales about the stairs in this joint. Stopping at my door, I unlocked it, opened and . . .

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY KAGURA!"

"Wh-Wha . . ." I stammered, "mom. Dad . . ." Speechless, I gawked at my parents, Coach, and several girls from my old swimming team. They stood in my room with a banner hanging over the entrance labeled, "Happy Birthday!" Closing the door behind me, I felt moist buds growing in my eyes. I was just so happy to see everyone and hugged my mom when she came up to me. I wouldn't cry. That much I had figured out.

"Happy Birthday," mom whispered into my ear and kissed the side of my head. Pulling away, she smiled lovingly and said, "I figured you'd want some company. So I took the liberty of inviting a few of your friends."

"We wanted to make sure you weren't going crazy up here," dad added, chuckling as he held out his hand and I shook. He was never a hug type of person. But his face told me enough.

After my parents, each person took a turn in talking to me. All the girls from my old swim team interrogated me on every aspect of an Olympic life. Everything from my swimming schedule and exercise drills, to the brand of chlorine used in the swimming pools. We rambled on, catching up on all different topics; things that had changed, things that hadn't changed. Finally, Coach sat down with me while everyone else enjoyed a birthday cake that mom had baked. "So Kagura, how are you getting along here?"

"Fine. The drills are rough and Sugata-sensei is very strict." Grinning, I continued, "And after seeing you, I kinda miss my old swim team." Which was true. Seeing the girls again, took me back to the days when practice lasted only two hours and everyone was available afterwards.

"Don't worry. You're doing great I'm sure. And I hear your grades have improved. Be proud of yourself."

I nodded. Coach had a point. She had always had a point. "Yeah you're right. I guess I shouldn't complain."

Patting my back Coach said, "You're right. You shouldn't complain. Because it's your birthday party and you're celebrating it with people who care about you."

I smiled. She was right, but at the same time, she wasn't. Chiyo, Yomi, Tomo, Sakaki, and Osaka weren't here. To be honest, with the rigorous training schedule, I'd spent little time thinking about my high school classmates. But days like today, they always managed to pop into my head and how careless I'd been not to exchange contact information with anyone. As much as I wanted to mention them to my parents, I couldn't because they now stood before me with an enormously wrapped box.

Mom and dad grinned excitedly at me as they carried the thing in and leaned it up against a wall. "Well Kagura, being that it's your birthday and all," dad said, unusually enthusiastic, "your mom and I got you a little something we thought you might need."

I couldn't respond. With the box being so huge, I couldn't imagine anything that big that I'd need. "You can open it," mom said when she'd noticed my hesitation to do anything. I nodded in awe and approached the box, grabbing at the wrapping paper. Tearing off long, wide strips of the brightly colored paper, I felt my face go red from embarrassment with all the eyes on me. I assume everyone knew what was inside as all talking had vanished at the sound of ripping paper.

When I finished tearing and ripping, I stared in confusion. "It's a box."

"Honey you've got it the wrong way," mom fussed as her and dad hurried over to the plain cardboard box and flipped it over. I gasped at the words on the box.

"A trophy case? Mom. Dad. I . . ." I couldn't believe my eyes. Covering my mouth, I quickly glanced at everyone in the room and turning back to my parents, you beamed with pride in their smiles, I stuttered, "B-But, I haven't even won anything yet."

"No," dad said, "but we know you will."

"That's right," Coach interjected, "I remember how dedicated you were to my team. Don't doubt yourself here. You can do it."

Tearfully, I replied, "Thanks Coach." Turning to my parents, I said, "mom, dad. I'll make sure I fill the case." Dad rubbed my head in approval.

* * *

><p>"Everyone was so proud of me that night. And after that, I started working harder than before. I asked Sugata-sensei for extra lessons, and I drilled myself on off days." Kagura eyed the dusty case as she spoke. "I came close to overdoing it. Really close."<p>

"But Kagura," I said, "I never saw you in the Olympics. I'm sure I would've recognized you."

I noticed a single tear roll down her cheek. But her face didn't change, nor did her voice. It retained that monotone, uneven tremor. Her disconcerted face then turned towards me as she said, "That's cause I never made it. It's not like I was too slow or anything like that. But . . . there was an accident."

"An accident?"

"Just days before the 2008 Olympics were to start. The Olympics that I was to compete in . . ."

Kagura suddenly grew upset at the lingering memory. As her body started to quiver, I thought this might be it. Placing a hand on her back, I attempted to calm her down. Pushing away my hand, she said, "I'm okay. I'm not crazy or anything like that. It's just . . . I'd spent most of my life thinking about swimming and what I could do with it. Because I was such a bonkler in school, I was worried that swimming wouldn't be enough for me to live off of. But the Olympics, they were exactly what I needed."

Hesitating, I eventually rested a hand on her shoulder. This time, she permitted it and I asked, "So what happened?"

"We were having a mini celebration on campus. Sugata-sensei was sure I'd take home the gold. My parents were there, along with families of the different swimmers . . ."

* * *

><p>The party had started around six. And here we all were, three hours later, with no sign of stopping. The celebration itself certainly well-warranted and I managed to see a side of Sugata-sensei that I hadn't seen before. He laughed, he drank, and he reminded me of an old carefree grandpa. Standing next to my parents, I listened to their chatter with Sugata-sensei about my interview with the local news. I glanced around, wanting out of this conversation. For some reason, talking and laughing about my own interview didn't really interest me.<p>

"Ah but anyway, I just can't believe how much progress Kagura has shown," Sugata-sensei exclaimed, finishing his glass of sake. "This time last year, many of those girls that entered with Kagura had given up. And I was expecting her to do the same . . ."

"Well that's my Kagura," dad said, squeezing my shoulder, "always up for a challenge."

The conversation shift had made me even more uncomfortable. Some of the girls that quit had become good friends of mine. However I'd managed to stay in touch with only a couple of them. The new set of girls from the 2007 World Championships hardly talked to me. Quite a few of them had had their noses so far in the air that I'd sometimes watch them practice just to see them get chewed out.

With the party celebrating Japan's swimming team, there weren't many people here that I could talk to. So I was forced to hang out next to my parents, listening to their rambling with Sugata-sensei. Wanting to get out and move around, I tugged on mom's shoulder like a kid wanting candy and asked, "Mind if I drive around for a bit?"

"Sure, that's fine by me. But what about Sugata-sensei? Would that be okay by him?"

About to stutter out an "I don't know", Sugata-sensei, who must've overheard us, said, "Sure, let her go out for an hour or two. Get out of this stuffy place for a while."

Though I suspected hindered judgment on sensei's part, I said nothing and glanced back at mom who reluctantly handed me the keys. Promising a quick return, I left the party and out to mom and dad's car. Not hard to find, it was the only car in the parking lot with the license plate in the rear window.

Pulling out of the parking lot and onto the road, I began driving to no place in particular. I knew of a few back roads to explore, but that was about it. But it didn't matter. I just needed to relax my mind. The party felt too upbeat, too happy. Sure we'd made it at far having a matter of days before the Olympics, but they weren't here yet. And I found myself too nervous to celebrate. Were there things to be happy about? Yes. I topped a world record, but big deal. People did that all the time in the Olympics. Right now, I needed to stay focused. Just like back in college, or even high school, I used prepare days in advance. The intake of food, the exercise, muscle, I worried over everything.

Taking a turn onto some road, I pulled up to a stop sign and just sat there for a couple seconds. With no one behind me, I shoved the car in park and rested my head on the steering wheel. I won't let you down Sensei. Coach, Nyamo, I won't let you guys down either." Sighing, I noticed a pair of headlights sneaking up on me and I reluctantly shoved the car in gear. Pulling out of my resting spot, I a set of headlights out my window caught my eyes. I turned to see the approaching car and everything went black . . .

"Ah, my head," I groaned, my eyes wincing open. "What happened?" Taking my hand away from my head, I found blood smeared all over palm and fingers. Panicked, I quickly glimpsed around, my head pulsating, and I could suddenly feel the wetness of the blood in my hair. Sparkles of glass covered the crinkled hood of the car, with a few shards spread across the floor. The window on my door slightly cracked, with blood running down it, I suddenly realized how hard it was to breathe. And looking down, I noticed the steering wheel shoved into my chest. Dizziness taking over, I noticed a turned over truck in the ditch next to me. "I have . . . to get out." It'd suddenly gotten hard to speak and everything began spinning. Unbuckling myself, I shoved open the door with all my strength. And in attempting to crawl out of the destroyed car, I realized something else. I couldn't feel my legs.


	8. Chapter 8

Well here we are! First of all, I apologize for the delay in updating. November has been a busy month for me (including getting sick twice; bleh). But I've worked on this chapter whenever I could and here it is. I've been so excited about this chapter for a long time so please enjoy. Hopefully no one is OOC (aside from a certain someone ;) But please enjoy and thank you so much for all the reviews! I apologize for not responding to all of them, but know they are very much appreciated!

**Chapter 8**

I slowly moved my head and groaned. My whole body felt numb, I couldn't move; and I felt groggy. Opening my eyes, everything blurred as a mesh at first, but slowly cleared. White, everywhere white. And the smell, I knew this smell, this clean pungent smell. A hospital. I hadn't been in one since primary school. As I lay in my hospital bed, I noticed figures standing all around me. A doctor, a nurse, and my parents all crowded around my bed. I heavily lifted a hand to my head to stop the spinning and said, "What happened?"

"Car accident," mom said gently, "You're lucky someone was right there to call an ambulance."

I ignored mom's soft cries as I tried to remember. Driving. I'd certainly been driving. Where I don't remember. But I'd left a party. And then it all came back to me. Like a brick to the head, I remembered the party celebrating our progress and how the Olympics would be starting soon. "The Olympics! I gotta get out of here," I exclaimed, fully awake as I ripped the covers off the bed. Two thick, heavy casts stared back at me, mockingly. My legs drowned in the white cocoons as I stared dumbfounded. Only when I sank back into the bed, did I notice the sharp pain in my ribs.

"Take it easy Kagura-san," the doctor said, placing a hand on my forehead. "You've got quite the nasty injuries. You'll have to take it slow for a while . . ."

"What do mean," I pleaded. I searched his stone face for an answer. But he only stared back. He knew my situation. I could feel my emotions welling up inside as I said, "I've only got a few days of training left. This can't take too long or I'll miss . . ." And I stopped. At the entrance to my room, two other men stood, talking. One I recognized as Sugata-sensei. The other I didn't know. But they talked for some time and even glanced at me once or twice. When Sugata-sensei finally shook his head in apparent frustration, the other man pulled out a phone and as he dialed a number, the two left the doorway.

"Kagura-san. Kagura-san!" I shifted absently to face my doctor. It didn't matter what'd happened to me in that accident. I already knew what all of it meant. But the doctor continued regardless, "Kagura-san, you've suffered a few good injuries. You suffered from a moderate concussion. You broke two of your ribs. Now with your legs, and this is where I want you to pay attention . . ."

"Doctor," I interrupted. I knew I couldn't stop the tears running down my face and just catching a glimpse of my parents' expressions made it harder not to cry. So focusing solely on the stern doctor, I asked, "When will I be able to swim again?"

His face softened, only a little as he said, "Casual swimming will be fine, but not for a long time. And it will have to be nothing strenuous. As far as competitive swimming goes, well we'll have to play that one by ear. While your left leg only suffered a hairline fracture, it's the right leg that we're going to worry about here. Because that's going to take some work."

"What's wrong," I asked, though I didn't care. _No more competitive swimming, huh? _I thought. Just like that, my Olympic voyage sunk before it even left land. What would I do now?

"Your right leg Kagura-san, suffered from a compound fracture; otherwise called an open fracture. It's where the bone actually breaks through the skin. We had to operate on it the second you arrived. And we're going to keep you here until it heals. We want to watch it for infection."

"No," I whispered. It couldn't end like this. After all that hard work, I couldn't just give up. Tears streamed down my face as I felt the casts around both legs. "This can't be happening. I . . . I have to go train. I-I have to work on my dives . . . my timing . . . I can still do it . . ."

"Kagura," dad said, his voice barely reaching me, "Please calm down. This is hard enough as it is."

"No!" I burst. "I won't give up! I can still swim," I shouted, grabbing at my cast. I wouldn't let this stop me. It wasn't going to stop me. A bonkler like me, all I had was swimming. Arms reached out to stop me but I fought with all my strength, "No! I can still swim. I can make it!" Shouts from the nurse and my parents soared over the room as I clawed at the casts, my ribs aching.

"Nurse, the sedative," I heard the doctor holler as I fought his grip.

I just couldn't control myself. My whole life I'd spent with below average grades and horrible study skills. Even when I really tried in school, the best I could get was a "C;" a "B" was a once in a blue moon event. But swimming, I felt like a master at that. And here they were trying to take that away from me. "No," I shouted again when the nurse returned with the hypodermic, "Don't take it away from me! No!" The needle went in, and blackness.

(Two Days Later)

The news. I never watched the news. So boring and depressing, they never had anything good to talk about. But since being locked away in this hospital, that's all I ever seemed to watch anymore. Hey, it was that or watch nurses and doctors cavort around the halls. And I had enough of both every day. Sometimes I wondered; did anyone ever realize how awful it is to stay in a hospital? Aside from the upcoming physical therapy and family visitations, I couldn't do anything. And television bored me to the point where I'd leave it on just to fall asleep. Even with the news playing now, I really wasn't listening; until I heard my name. Perking up, I watched as a reporter appeared on the TV.

"A tragic accident has broken the Olympic Swimming team for Japan. Two days ago, Japan's only competitor for the 200 meter freestyle swimming event was involved in a car accident. Behind me, you can still see disturbed ground where the cars left the road and even some debris remains . . ." the camera moved over to the road where the accident had occurred. With nearly everything cleaned up, there wasn't much to see, but my stomach belly flopped at the sight of that spot; the spot that had taken so much from me. ". . . According to our sources, it was a drunk driver who had lost control and had sped into the intersection where he struck Kagura-san's vehicle. The Sohara Medical Center is not releasing information on Kagura-san and Japan's Olympic Committee said in a statement that they would not be replacing the lost athlete . . ."

I switched the television off. I couldn't stand to listen to it anymore. Lying in bed, I glanced out into the hallway. Everyone was busy; someplace they needed to be, as usual. I couldn't help but wonder what would happen to me. After this mess, where would I go? Would I have a place to be? Sure the Olympic program would provide me with some benefits despite me not competing. But would I be able to find something that would be as good a replacement as swimming. Sighing, I checked the clock and muttered to myself, "Impossible."

A knock on the door woke me from my thoughts and when I looked up, I was surprised to see Coach. She stood in the doorway, shocked. She didn't smile. She didn't speak. She just stood there and looked me over. I think she must've been in some sort of daze as she eventually stumbled into the room. I didn't say anything. I just watched her, watched her sit next to my bed, and then silence. She'd carried a small bag in with her which she fiddled with. Knowing this kind of atmosphere couldn't continue, I finally said, "Thanks for coming."

Coach weakly forced a smile at me and said, "No problem Kagura. I'm really sorry about what happened. I know how much this meant to you." I remained silent. Whether or not she really knew, I couldn't tell. When I didn't respond, she reached in the bag and pulled out a stuffed teddy bear. A light brown teddy bear with an open journal in its hands, I was surprised to find numerous signatures under the words, "Get Well Soon." Handing it to me, Coach said, "I got this for you. I hoped it might cheer you up."

"Thanks Coach," I said, grabbing the bear. Well, it was cute.

"Listen Kagura, about your accident. Everything's gonna be okay. We'll get ya healed up and . . ."

"Do you really think it'll work," I interrupted. Coach was at a loss for words with my question but since she brought it up, I figured I'd ask. After all, being that she was a swimming coach, she'd know a little about injuries. "I mean, I was really good at swimming and now that I can't do it, I don't know what's gonna happen."

Coach said nothing for a while. I couldn't tell if she was thinking how to word her response or if she just didn't have one. Though a long time had passed since I'd seen her like this, I remember that she almost always knew how to calm a person down. But with the assumption that she knew my condition, I don't think a response like that existed.

It appeared as though she had given up on thinking of a response as she said, "I think Kagura, that whether or not you go back to swimming, that you'll be just fine. I mean, there's always 2012. And if that doesn't work, well, you're a smart girl. You'll think of something."

Sighing, I looked away. She meant well. At least she'd stopped to talk. "Thanks Coach," I muttered, not wanting to upset her.

"No problem," she said, taking notice of the clock on the wall. "Is it that time already?" I only half glanced at the clock, not really caring what time it was. But obviously Coach had somewhere to be, for she awkwardly stood up and said, "Sorry Kagura, but I have to go." I nodded my head in understanding. She probably only dropped by on a whim. "Take care of yourself. See you later." And with that, Coach stepped out of the room.

Just having her stop by made me feel a little better. True I couldn't be in the Olympics this time, but maybe in another four years I could be. After all, broken legs didn't take that long to heal. But still, the doctor had called my case serious. It worried me over the next few days as I sat in that bed, motionless. I started watching hospital dramas on television. Quite melodramatic, and some of the injuries people came in with on those shows, I sometimes felt as though I was watching a horror movie. And suddenly before I knew it, the Olympics had started airing. Most of the events, I couldn't care less. One particular event though, I made sure to watch.

I sat in my bed that day; the nurse had just left to prepare for my physical therapy. Honestly, I had come to dread physical therapy. We had only just started, but my right leg bothered me more than ever. During the therapy and even after, I'd sweat and with my leg swelling up, it hurt to walk on (that is, try to walk on). I'd started feeling malaise not long after. And I hadn't a good night's sleep since arriving, but maybe that was just the hospital atmosphere. Right now though, that didn't matter; because the Olympic event that I wanted to watch most was going to be on.

I flicked on the television in time to catch the announcer say, "Welcome back everyone to the 2008 Beijing Summer Olympics. It's been quite a competition for the women's swimming events and this next event will be no exception I'm sure. Stay tuned, because coming up is the women's 200 meter freestyle competition here at Beijing." And then it changed to commercials.

Just then, the nurse returned and said, "Kagura-san, your doctor would like to. . ."

"Uh sorry, can it wait till later? I wanna watch something first." I said, not wanting to miss my event.

"Kagura-san, you need to . . ."

"Please, I need to see this." The commercials ended and the announcers had already begun recapping the moments leading up to this swim. I glanced at the nurse pleadingly. She didn't seem to know what to do. "Please. I'll go the second this is over."

Giving in, the nurse nodded and said, "J-Just buzz me when you're ready." And she hurried away from the door. Probably just my physical therapy. A couple more minutes won't kill them. Besides, who cares? The swimmers were already coming out. This final swim would be for the medals. Of course Japan wasn't in this swim. The closest country I could root for happened to be China. Oh well. Pang's good. She'd won four golds at the Asian games a few yews back.

With the swimmers diving into the water, I shouted, "Come on Pang! Take the gold!" A few people from the hall glanced in at me but I didn't care. Waving my fists in the air like an idiot, this was the most excitement I'd had in a long time. And I certainly wasn't about to let some stupid physical therapy interrupt me. Besides, _I was supposed to be there. _

". . . And at the fifty meter turn, Pang is in the lead," the announcer cheered. I sportively shook my fist in the air. I couldn't keep the tears out of my eyes as I cheered her on. "That lead for Pang didn't last though. She's dropped down to second and Pellegrini has taken the lead."

"Come on Pang. Drop too far now or you'll never catch up," I said tensely. But by 150 meters, Pang had dropped out of the top three and things grew closer. "Come on Pang! Everything you've got! Go now," I shouted at the television.

". . . That's it! Pellegrini gets the gold! Silver will go to Isakovic. And finally, the Bronze will go to Pang!"

I switched off the TV. "Oh well," I said, "at least they got a medal." I sat in silence and eventually wiped the still falling tears from my eyes. "But if that'd been me, I would've had the gold," I whispered. With all the people that had comforted me, it still hurt. I'd been less than a week from the opening ceremonies and in the blink of an eye, I'm out. "There's always 2012," Coach had said, but would they still take me? What kind of a swimmer will I be after I heal? Will I even be able to train? _I'll have to try._

Knock. Knock. My doctor stood outside the door, waiting for me. I nodded and pulled away the covers as he entered. "Sorry. I just wanted to watch the swimming," I said, swinging my body over the bed, only now realizing how much I'd strained my ribs from watching the match. "I'm ready when you are."

Giving me this funny look, the doctor said, "No Kagura-san, you're not going to physical therapy today. There's something I want to discuss with you."

"Okay? What is it?"

The doctor took on the manner of a parent explaining to a child that someone had died. He didn't seem sure of what to say. I watched him glance at his notes and back at me and I immediately knew something serious was wrong. "What's going on," I inquired.

"Well," he finally said, "as you know, the main reason we're keeping you here for so long is because of your leg that had the compound fracture. We were keeping you here to watch for infection . . ."

"And . . ." I prodded.

Releasing deep breath, he said, "Kagura-san, because of what's happened to your leg, you've developed osteomyelitis. It's a type of bone infection that can occur after accidents such as yours. All those things you were experiencing: the sweating, the swelling, the uneasiness. Those are all symptoms and I wish you would've mentioned them."

"Sorry," I muttered, "I didn't think that was important. I just thought they were . . ."

"Never assume anything." His voice changed and I could hear his agitation. "This infection is very serious Kagura-san. I was hoping that by keeping you here, we could avoid this scenario."

"What's gonna happen to me?"

"Well," he said, "First we'll have to do some tests. Some x-rays, a CBC, a CRP will need to be done for sure. But there may be others. You'll be given antibiotics intravenously for at least four weeks. We'll see where we are after that. More surgery may be needed but I can't say anything with certainty until we do all your tests."

It sounded serious. Just the name osteomyelitis frightened me. I stayed silent for a long time as my doctor explained to me the different treatments that I'd be going under and what the different tests were that I'd have to endure. I rubbed my forehead with worry. _From start to finish, always a bonkler._ I thought to myself. "So," I said helplessly, "Will I need amputation? Is that what you're telling me?"

"No," the doctor said, "Only in rare cases is that necessary. Being that you're an athlete, I'd imagine you'd have excellent blood circulation and you don't have diabetes; and those are two of the main preexisting conditions where we'd worry about amputation. What's really going to determine your prognosis is whether this is acute osteomyelitis or if it turns out to be chronic."

"So, which one is bad," I cautiously asked.

"Chronic. Even with surgery, the prognosis is not good for chronic osteomyelitis." And handing me some information relating to the infection, the doctor said, "You shouldn't have to worry too much. But please let us know about any strange pains or symptoms. You don't want this to get worse." And with that, he left.

* * *

><p>Kagura chuckled and said, "Guess which one I ended up with? Just guess?"<p>

I was afraid to answer, but I had a good idea of which one she got, if not from how she asked but from how her hand clutched her right leg; something I hadn't noticed until now. "Chronic . . ."

She nodded as her voice quivered with frustration, "Yep. Chronic osteomyelitis. They went in and did surgery. I was released and a few months later, I started sweating and my leg swelled and I was running a consistent fever of over a hundred." Turning her head, she directed my attention to the end of the trophy case, where a cane leaned up against the wall. I hadn't noticed it before but there it sat all the same. "It didn't take long and I lost some feeling in my right leg." Her voice bubbled up a bit as I could see her blinking rapidly, ridding herself of tears no doubt.

I motioned for her to stop and was about to say that she didn't have to continue but I never got the chance as Kagura rambled right on. "You know Tomo, I can't go anywhere without that cane now. I have a hard time walking without it. And my doctor said he'd never seen anyone lose feeling in their leg as fast as I did. He thought for sure it was something else, but nope, it was the chronic osteomyelitis." Shaking her head, she glanced longingly at the trophy case and said, "I'll never fully heal. Just like that, my life was ruined." Her breathing increased and excitedly she continued, "My dad even tried to convince me to get rid of my trophy case. He said it was a nuisance. He's the one that bought it!"

"Kagura calm down," I said, attempting to avoid hysterics. "Breath. Take slow breaths." She'd been hyperventilating for the last half a minute or so. She needed to take it easy. I didn't want her fainting on me. And then suddenly she stopped. And her face changed to a serious, almost glaring expression; like she could see right into me. I'd never seen such a frightening stare in my life. It caused me to back away a bit, sending a chill down my spine.

"But," Kagura said slowly, her eyes boring into me, ". . . I had a chance to fix it. I had a chance to get my life back. About two weeks ago, when the 2012 Olympics were on . . . She visited me . . ."

* * *

><p>"Kagura-san, you've got one more group of kids to teach," Hiragii-san called out, "They're just learning how to float. Get them use to the water please."<p>

"Alright," I hollered back, and grabbing my cane, I limped across the pool. While the pool did remind me of the lessons I took as a kid, that reason was also why I hated this place so much. How could I go from "almost" Olympic athlete to teaching little nose-pickers how to float belly up without drowning. Oh well, it was a job right? Even though some Olympic officials helped me find this job and helped me settle into a house (with stairs no less), I felt abandoned. As sight of a bunch of little kids with floaters around their arms came into view, I sighed. _Oh well. Get this over with Kagura and you can go home and get ready to do this all over again tomorrow. Yay._

The small kiddy pool being not much bigger than a blow-up pool for home; I managed, with the help of my cane, to sit down in the water with the kids. "Alright kids. My name is Kagura-sensei and we're gonna learn how to float in the water. Now, eventually we're gonna take those things off your arms and float without them . . ." I said, "But for today, we'll practice with them on and just splash around a bit."

The kids appeared happy with that decision and none of them were terrified of being in the water. That helped me a lot. So I just sat back and watched them mess around. They chatted incessantly over silly topics. But one kid eventually perked up and announced, "I'm gonna get so good at swimming! I'm gonna be in the Olympics!"

One of the other kids argued, "No you can't! The Olympics are on TV now! You're too late."

"I'll wait till next time!"

With some name-calling arising, I decided I'd better break it up. Pulling them apart, the two continued to argue and I said, "Knock it off already! If any of you wanna win a medal, you better worry about this stuff first."

One of the shyer girls whom I had seen here before softly asked, "Kagura-sensei, were you in the Olympics?"

Then one of the boys who'd been part of the little argument shouted after the girl, "Yeah you'd be super fast, like a jet!" And he made a "Swoosh" sound as he mimicked a plane's flight, in the water.

I considered telling them all about my Olympic experience but figured they wouldn't understand. How do you explain to a bunch kids how some dumbass drunk rammed your car and destroyed your leg? And not to mention, I might get trouble. So, I feigned a smile and said, "No, I'd never make it in the Olympics. I'm not fast enough."

Satisfied with the answer, the kids returned to their messing around and thankfully, their time to leave arrived only a few minutes after. Freed from my job for the day, I grabbed my cane and stumbled toward the locker room. "Kagura-san," Hiragii-san said. I turned to see what she needed. "Were you gonna need help getting out of your swimming suit today? I can send someone over."

"No, I'll be fine," I said, and continued into the locker room. Sitting on the bench, I buried my head in my arms and remembered what I'd told those kids. "Not fast enough huh? Did I really say that?" It surprised me how much it had hurt to say those words. But what else was I supposed to say? Getting the swim suit off, I carefully changed back into my regular clothes, trying not to think about what had just happened. _What am I doing here? Why do I keep coming back? _

Shutting the locker, I left the pool and dropping myself into my car, I drove home. At least tonight they'd have the swimming events on. Maybe Japan would actually win something tonight.

Dropping my things at the door, I limped into the kitchen and grabbed myself a TV tray. Not really hungry, but I needed something to carry my drink. Snatching a bottle of sake and a glass, I shook my head at my own stupidity. Drinking was for weekends. But the Olympics were tonight, and with my swimming competition. I needed something to cheer me up.

Into the living room and plopping myself down on the chair, I flicked on the television and poured out a glass as the irritating announcers began their summary. They reviewed highlights from the last Summer Olympics and I took a sip. My name didn't even get mentioned. They sure forgot about me in a hurry.

"Stupid driver, I could be there right now," I watched enviously as Japan's swimmer walked out with a huge smile on her face. I watched her walk up to the pool, stretch, and get into position. I imagined I was standing there, preparing to defend my gold. Cheering fans, mom and dad, Coach, and even Nyamo watching me in the stands.

"It can still happen."

I froze in my chair. "W-Who's there," I asked, switching off the TV and turning around.

To my bewilderment, a high-school girl stood next to my trophy case in uniform. She stared me down, watching my every move. First thing that popped into my mind, _I know her. _The high-school uniform she wore was an exact duplicate of my high-school uniform, the fall/winter version. Her shoulder length, dark brown hair gently swayed back and forth, rubbing up against her nearly white skin. Aside from the pale skin, she appeared normal; except for her eyes. The way she looked at me, it was like she hadn't eaten for weeks and I suddenly looked like an appetizer. "So this is what's happened to you," she said coldly, "A washed up swimmer teaching kids how to float. Kind of like a fish out of water."

She smiled briefly at me and turned in place, like she was being spun. And she stopped, facing a shelf full of old pictures. Curiously, she picked one up, her expression changed and turned sad, despairing over the contents. With her mesmerized by one of my photos, I hoisted myself out of the chair and grabbing my cane, carefully walked over to her. Able to get a closer look, I half expected her to start crying with how she gazed longingly at the picture. Speaking of which, I took a quick peek at the one in her hands and suddenly I knew. She was the spitting image of Osaka.

"Who are you," I asked, watching her expression. But she didn't answer. Unsure of how to handle the intruder, I tried a different approach. "Do you know her? Kasuga Ayumu?" _Maybe she's a relative. _But that seemed a little farfetched.

"I am her."

The words from the girl were so faint that I almost didn't hear, but when she set the picture down, her eyes hardened again and the same crazed look returned. "W-What do mean? Osaka died shortly after graduation. She's been dead for . . ."

And she just glared at me. I didn't believe her at first, and in fact I didn't really believe it to be her until she left. But still, there Osaka was all the same. And when I seen her glare at me that way, I knew that whether this was Osaka or not, something was seriously wrong with her. She approached me and I took a step back, teetering off my cane and hitting the floor. I moaned in pain upon slamming into my leg, but Osaka didn't even flinch. She just hovered over me and said, "You were always the competitive type, weren't you? Athletic, strong, determined . . . But your grades, they were worse than mine."

I gripped my leg and watched Osaka closely. I was terrified. She had an edge to her voice similar to that of a crazed killer from those cop shows. Osaka turned and faced the trophy case, looking it over. Without glancing at me, she said, "Is this where you were gonna put those medals? The national and international trophies? All those awards and certificates and pictures with the prime minister?" Then meeting my eyes, Osaka finished, "Were you gonna put your Olympic medals in here?"

The way she spoke angered me somehow, as if she mocked me. Trying to sound even the tiniest bit threatening, I said, "What do want already?"

"I want to help you fill this trophy case. I want to help you get your life back."

I was about to say, "Impossible," when she waved her hand in front of the case and suddenly it began to glow. I dared a glance at the case and my mouth dropped in shock. The dust and emptiness gone, replaced with gold medals, elaborate trophies, certificates, and photographs. On the trophies and medals, my name gleamed in gold and silver. In the pictures, I stood shaking the hand of a government official or was receiving a trophy. The prizes listed many different competitions, including: The Asian Games, world championships, Japan titles, and, one from the Olympics. I stared long and hard at the 2008 Olympic gold medal which bore my name. I wanted to touch it, feel the lettering on the medal, but was afraid it would disappear. Turning to the gloating Osaka, I said, "T-This can't be real. I . . . I . . ."

Without saying a word, Osaka reached inside the case. She pulled out the Olympic gold and held it out, stretching the soft material. Out of instinct, I bowed my head, allowing her to place it over my neck. The hard medal hit my chest with a small bounce and I could feel its weight pull on my neck.

I sat dumbfounded, reaching up and touching it. Running my fingers over the gold, over my name; I couldn't help but cry a little. It was real. It was actually real. I turned to the case, wanting to touch every single piece inside.

"This can be yours," Osaka said, "I can give it all back to you."

With that the television flicked on and a reporter stood at some pool announcing the results of another competition. "And Kagura-san continues her unstoppable chain of victories. This time at Japan's most prized . . ." and he continued on as the program ran highlights of me swimming and I could see my own arms and legs, kicking and throttling me through the water in perfect form.

"Yes. Please help me," I said, my mouth moving on its own, "I want this back. This was my future."

And Osaka looked back at me. Strange, I couldn't tell if she was excited by my response, or disappointed. Regardless, she waved her hand once more and the television flicked off, and everything in the trophy case vanished, including the Olympic medal that hung around my neck. All of them, gone. Dust reappeared and the case reverted back to its original state, empty. Then Osaka said, "I can help. But, there is a price."

"W-What is it?"

"I need you to take my place."

"I-I don't understand," I said, a feeling of foreboding rising in the pit of my stomach.

Without warning, Osaka started moving in on me; her eyes intensely focused on me and I tried to back away. As she advanced, she said almost desperately, "What do you think Kagura? You can have your life back. You can have everything you've ever dreamed of. You can have your leg back. If you just take my place in . . ."

"NO," I shouted. Though my heart screamed inside, begging me to take the offer, something in the back of my head screamed louder. And it took every ounce of strength for me not to say yes. I could feel tears streaming down my cheeks, knowing what I'd just done. Stammering, I said, "I don't want this. I don't know how you can do all this but there is something wrong with you. I don't want your help."

Shocked by my refusal, Osaka said, "Are you sure? I will not make this offer again. I will . . ."

"I don't want it!" Shutting my eyes and covering my ears, I continued to shout, "I don't want it! I don't want it!" I had to. Because if Osaka said one more thing or showed me one more trophy, I might've really said yes.

By the time I had stopped shouting, I was crying. Afraid to move, I waited for her to place a hand on my shoulder, waited for her to shove something in my face. But nothing. Opening my eyes, I slowly looked up. She was gone. Nowhere to found. I glanced over to the trophy case, the empty, dusty trophy case and whispered one final time, "I . . . don't want it."

* * *

><p>Kagura eyed the floor as she finished her story. For a long time afterwards, she was silent. When she finally did look up at me, she said, "Tomo, I don't know what it was about that girl, but there was something evil inside her. Whatever she was, she looked like Osaka, and she even sounded like Osaka. But that girl was not Osaka. It couldn't have been. But even now," and clutching her chest, Kagura said, "I can still feel that gold medal on my chest."<p>

"Kagura please, you're . . ."

"I miss it Tomo. I really, really miss it."


	9. Chapter 9

Well here it is. I'm sorry about the delay with the update, but I've been busy with other projects for the past month and I may be just as busy for the next week or two. But I want you to know that the story is still alive and well. And with this chapter we have offically passed the halfway point of the story (chapter-wise). So thank you everyone for sticking around this long and I hope you all will continue to enjoy this story. Merry Christmas and Happy New Years!

**Chapter 9**

Listening to Tomo's story, Sakaki glanced over to Chiyo and wondered what she'd be thinking about this. Heck, Sakaki wouldn't have believed Tomo if it weren't for the fact that she'd read through Chiyo's journals. But once more, they seemed like two completely different Osakas. And the things that Tomo described Osaka doing; where did that come from?

"I know it's not the easiest thing to believe, especially knowing Osaka," Tomo said, hoping to calm them both, "Saying and doing those things, especially to one of her friends. But for what it's worth, I don't think she had a choice."

"What happened to Kagura," Sakaki finally asked.

Tomo explained, "She disappeared. I radioed Chief and he told me he'd take care of it. It didn't look like Kagura was going anywhere so I was told to just have one of the neighbors watch her until someone would arrive to pick her up. Why I couldn't do it, I don't know." Tomo clenched a fist out of frustration. Even though it had happened so long ago, she'd been right there; could've stopped it. "But when I asked Chief about it the next day, he said she'd disappeared. They didn't know where she went. Kagura must have slipped past the person that I got to watch her. Imagine that," Tomo chuckled, "A girl with a cane slipping past someone unnoticed. If I only would've taken her in . . ."

"What about Osaka," Chiyo asked, eyeing Tomo. "Where'd she go after that? Did Kagura say?"

"No," Tomo shook her head, "Kagura didn't say anything about that. And even if she did, I probably wouldn't have believed her. I mean, I myself doubted what she'd said. It didn't make any sense you know."

"What happened?"

"Well," Tomo said, glancing at both Sakaki and Chiyo, "For a little while, I wasn't allowed to talk about anything dealing with Kagura. Then when things started getting released . . ."

* * *

><p>I sat in Yomi's apartment, watching her set the table. Work had been a bore, like usual. Chief must still be a little uneasy with putting me back on the streets. But Yomi'd always told me to stick with it; especially since her major never worked out. Even though I teased her about it, I felt bad for her. In school, Yomi had always outranked me in grades by miles. If anything, I expected our roles to be reversed. She really hated that café job. But at least she had her boyfriend, Yuuko; what good could be said of him though was arguable.<p>

"Well Tomo, you're sure making this a habit," Yomi said, setting down a scrumptious looking chicken udon.

"Sorry. But you're the professional," I said, hoping for a rise; instead a glare.

"I heard about Kagura on the news," Yomi said, taking a seat. Then, looking at me expectantly, she continued, "Your name was mentioned. What happened?"

And so I told her. I told her everything from the second I walked into Kagura's house, to the moment she finished talking about Osaka. Everything that I could remember, I reiterated to Yomi. I was actually kind of surprised by how long they kept things closed with the case. I mean, the end of August seemed a little long to release this stuff. What kept them? ". . . and when I asked Chief about her, he said she'd disappeared. No one knows where she is."

"You mean she was sitting in front of that trophy case ever since?"

Nodding, I responded, "That's kind of how I took it. It's like she was mesmerized by the thing. So bizarre. I mean, it almost sounds like drugs or something, but . . ."

"Kagura wasn't the kind to take drugs. None of us were."

"That, and no traces of drugs were ever found in the house. She had the sake sure, but I couldn't smell alcohol on her and . . ." Sighing, I sucked down some of the chicken udon and said, "I don't know. I don't know what to think."

"Do you believe her?"

"Do you," I asked back and receiving a slow shake of her head, I looked away for a moment and said to Yomi, "I don't know if she saw Osaka or not. Cause that just doesn't make sense. But I do think she saw someone or something, or at least she really believed she saw something. I just wish I could see it too. Or just talk to her again, and hear more about what happened." I chuckled a bit and felt my cheeks go red. I hated talking about work, hated talking about this kind of stuff with Yomi. It made me feel uncomfortable. "Sorry," I said, snatching up another bite of the udon, "Say, how's Yuuko? You went out with him last week didn't you?"

Yomi hesitated at the question. Maybe I knew better than to ask, but I did worry about her. Yuuko and Yomi had been dating on and off for over a year. There'd be an argument, and suddenly they'd break up. But then one (usually Yomi it seemed) always crawled back to the other. And honestly, I didn't care for Yuuko. Though I'd only met him once, he'd come off as being really snide and full of himself. I remember when Yomi had first met him, things had gone great for a while, and then she'd caught him hanging out with a bunch of sleazy women. But in the end, I think she's afraid to leave him.

"Good. It went good," Yomi said stiffly.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?"

I eyed for a few minutes. She lied. They'd had a fight. I could tell. "Alright," I gave in. Sure I could've forced the truth out of her, but what good would that have done? She'd tell me eventually, and on the rare occasion that this might be only a small squabble, maybe I wouldn't hear about it at all. But those kind of arguments were becoming fewer and farther between. "Just let me know if ya need someone to break his nose," I exclaimed, punching my hand.

This kind gesture not appreciated as always, I was forced to apologize and we ended up eating in silence. Yeah I'd gotten into the habit of stopping by Yomi's apartment once a week (mainly because it was right next to mine), and while I think it annoyed the hell out of her, I also think she enjoyed it. "So, how was work," I asked, trying to set aside yet another failed attempt at humor.

And Yomi, visibly calmer with the change in subject, ranted on and on about work and how she hated the new person because he couldn't run the cash register, couldn't do the dishes fast enough, and a bazillion other things.

* * *

><p>"I'd always wanted to do more to help Yomi. But she wouldn't let me. I think she knew that if I ever ran into that Yuuko, I'd probably do more than just bust his nose," Tomo said, "So I tried not to butt in with it."<p>

"How did Yomi meet this guy," Sakaki asked, wondering how one of the more intelligent girls from their gang ended up with such a loser. Ashamed to think it, she would've expected Tomo to grab the rotten apple of a boyfriend.

"I think she met him at work, but I'm not sure. And then, he was a good guy. But I think he ran into some money along the way and it really screwed him up."

"Did Osaka talk to Yomi," Chiyo asked, apparently having a one tracked mind.

Tomo understood the question however and after all, Osaka was the original reason she had come to see Chiyo. "Eventually yes. But I think Osaka had been watching her for a long time. I wonder if she did the same for Kagura, or me." With all eyes on Tomo, she continued, "About a year after talking to Yomi about Kagura, I came home to find Yomi crying . . ."

* * *

><p>I stepped up to my apartment door with key in hand, and before I could unlock it, a soft whimpering escaped the confines of Yomi's closed door. Hesitating, I wondered whether or not I should investigate. <em>It could be coming from her TV. <em>I thought but quickly trashed the notion when the sound drifted slightly louder out into the hallway, and I could more clearly make out Yomi's sobs. Walking over to her door, I lightly knocked, and when no response came, I turned the knob and opened the door a crack. "Yomi," I called soothingly, "Yomi are you okay?"

I thought I heard some kind of answer, but couldn't make it out. Closing the door behind me, I walked through her kitchen/living room and into her bedroom. There sat Yomi in a blubbering mess. She'd taken her glasses off and had set them on the bed while she held her face in her hands. Still in her work uniform from the café, I assumed something must have happened there. Careful not to break her glasses again, I sat beside her and rubbed her shoulder. "Are you okay?" She didn't answer, but only shook her head. "I'm guessing something happened at work?" She nodded, and her crying began to diminish. "You gave a customer food poisoning," I asked, hoping it that would at least put a smile on her face. It didn't.

Instead, Yomi faced me, her nose red, cheeks glistening wet. "I'm not in the mood." But she didn't pull away from me. Yomi leaned her head into my chest and allowed me to hold her. "It's Yuuko."

"Oh," I said. No wonder that didn't work. "What about Yuuko?"

"I seen him today," she said sniffling, "He was fooling around with some girl."

"Again," I said surprised, "Yomi, this isn't the first time this guy has . . ."

"I know that Tomo," Yomi interrupted sharply.

"Then why do stay with him," I asked, petting her head. "I mean face it Yomi. The guy's an asshole. I mean, sure he was nice enough when you met him. But he's changed and I know you can do better than him."

Ignoring me, Yomi continued, "I just can't figure out why. What does she have that I don't? Where'd he even find her? And it happened on my break too. I mean, why he would even let that bitch take him somewhere he knows he'd be caught?" She released a long, hiccupping breath and glanced up at me.

"It's okay. I'm here," I said reassuringly. "Do you wanna tell me about it?"

Nodding, Yomi relaxed herself in my arms, and I wished I had something to lean to for support. But I kept silent as Yomi began, "I'd just gotten on my break and was grabbing something to eat . . ."

* * *

><p>"Hey Yomi-san, you can take your break now," Hitomi-san hollered from the back.<p>

"Okay. Thanks," I said, exhausted. I hated working the register during the noon hour. The café always flooded with people right as the clock would strike twelve. And with the dinky old machine that we used, a week barely passed without the damn thing freezing up on us. Oh well, I logged off the register and walked to the back, to prepare myself a nice katsudon to eat. Though this place had few pluses, one that came with the job was learning how to cook.

After preparing the pork cutlet and the rice, I decided I'd actually sit at one of the tables, versus in the back. I didn't like the secluded atmosphere back there; too stuffy. Grabbing a single table, I eased back into the chair, resting my poor feet and ate. The place buzzed with chit chatter, rumors, news, jokes, scandals, and every topic in between. Though I preferred the peace and quiet, being able to eat in a location that made me forget I was even working helped the break actually relax me.

Eating my katsudon, I suddenly felt a pair of eyes on me. It shouldn't have bothered me because people often watched others in a place like this; usually out of boredom and for a lack of a TV. But for some reason, I felt uncomfortable; almost threatened, like I shouldn't be here (not that I would argue with that). I sneaked a quick glance around my table, hoping that I was only imagining things. And to my relief, no one posing a threat seemed to show any interest in me. The only person that eyed me was a lone high school girl, sitting in a booth, by a window. She sat forgotten, sipping a cup of milk tea; watching me. Even when I stared directly at her, she didn't bother to look away. Her desolate eyes penetrated me, and I realized that it was her gaze which somehow threatened me, urging me to leave. But she said not a word. And the more I looked her over, the more I recognized her. My mind was clouded, and I couldn't place the face.

Standing up, I walked towards the table, and felt her stare grow more intense, pushing me away. But before I could reach her, a woman stepped in front me, blocking my view of the girl. "What are you doing here, you little brat! Get out," she shouted and she threw the girl out into the aisle. The girl ran out through the door, but not before making a last pleading glance at me before exiting.

People already stirring, I figured someone else would deal with the crass broad and so I hurried to the door, hoping to catch up with the girl. But someone else entered at the same time that I arrived at the door. "Y-Yuuko," I asked astonished.

"Yomi," he stumbled, "what are you doing here? I thought it was your day off."

"What are you talking about? I don't get days off." I said, quickly glancing out the window, hoping to catch sight of the girl, but to no avail. She'd be long gone by now. "Say, did you want to eat with me? I'm on my break and . . ."

"Yuuko!"

I spun on the spot to find the same woman who had thrown the girl out of the booth, now running up to my boyfriend. She eagerly wrapped her arms around him and swiftly, but not innocently kissed him on the cheek. "Kurmura-san, please," Yuuko nervously begged.

"Why not," the woman playfully argued, "You said we'd be together all day!"

"Yuuko," I stammered, suddenly finding it hard to breath, "What's going on? Who is this?"

"Eh Yomi, please. This is just . . ."

But the woman stuck her nose out into my face and said, "Who am I? I should be asking you the same question, silly waitress. What you think you're doing standing around, gawking at another girl's man? Don't you have some dishes to wash!"

With that she grabbed Yuuko's arm, wrapping her body tightly around it, she pulled him toward the booth that she had emptied and said, "Come on Yuuko dear. We've got no time for the likes of her."

* * *

><p>"I don't know how many times I came home to Yomi crying over stuff like that. But <em>that <em>particular instance stuck with me, especially with what happened to Kagura. I don't think Yomi ever realized who that girl was, or if she did she never told me," Tomo explained. Then nodding at Chiyo, she said, "What about you Chiyo? Did she ever follow you?"

Chiyo nodded. Within the past few hours, she looked as if she had aged more years just from hearing that story than from all her heart problems. "I've seen her so many times. I can't even begin to count. But she never did anything like that."

Tomo gulped with the realization of her friend's words. "Chiyo," her voice wavered unsteadily, "Before I continue, there's something I want to know. Since you've seen her so many times . . . did Osaka ever speak to you, like she spoke to Kagura? Did she ever . . ."

"Yes," Chiyo whispered. Her eyes had lost all life with that answer. "Yes. She did. And I haven't seen her since."

Finally breaking her silence, Sakaki slowly asked, "What did she say to you?" And glancing at Tomo, Sakaki caught the girl's heightened interest in the question. But Chiyo wouldn't answer it.

Ignoring Sakaki, Chiyo turned to Tomo and said, "I'll tell you what Osaka said to me; but only after I hear what she said to you."

"Fair enough," Tomo said, relaxing in her chair a little. "Let's see. Not long after Yomi told me about Yuuko, maybe a week or so; it's probably why I remember that so well. I had started to get impatient with the investigators working on Kagura's case. You see, we still didn't know whether or not she was alive or where she was. And it'd been almost a year since she disappeared in 2012. So I'd started doing some "investigating" of my own . . ."

* * *

><p>While I spent much of my time at work filing papers, looking over police reports, and whatnot, my breaks were a different story. Rather than sitting back and kicking my feet up for fifteen minutes or so, I spent my breaks rereading old reports on Kagura's case. No one was able to come up with a viable explanation as to why she disappeared or as to where she went. I had tried interviewing a couple of neighbors and coworkers, but none could provide anything new. Chief had even caught me once when one of the concerned people called in and asked about my intentions. But what did that matter? In the time I'd spent reviewing Kagura's case, I hadn't come any closer to solving it than the investigators who were getting paid to solve it.<p>

"September 23rd already," I said to myself as I checked the calendar on my computer. The missing persons' reports would be due soon. Oh well, my shift was about to end. I'd worry about that tomorrow. But Kagura's case kept me from relaxing. There had to be something that I was missing. Opening up the police archives, I clicked open the public archives file for a quick search (for the millionth time). It never amounted to much, but it'd give me something to do until the bell rang. I typed in Kagura's name and did a quick search. Files on her athletic competitions popped up. I'd read over a couple of those before. Nothing more than a small blurb on the back of the Sports section. Next came the announcement that she'd participate in the Olympics; followed by the accident that took her out of them. I'd read over those articles half a dozen times. Nothing there. Then came the article that I'd read every time I did the search; the article about her disappearance.

"I've gotta be missing something obvious," I said to myself, rereading the article:

"Another tragedy has befallen the ex-Olympic athlete Kagura. Once a top contender for the gold in 2008 for women's swimming, Kagura was thrown out of the Olympics by a horrible auto accident. Now, just weeks after the 2012 Summer Olympics, Kagura has turned up missing. The report came in not long after an officer went to check up on the former athlete. Kagura, who had been absent from work for over a week, reportedly spoke to the officer briefly on an undisclosed subject, and disappeared later that day. If anyone has any information regarding her whereabouts, please contact the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department."

I sat at my desk, staring blankly at the screen; as I usually did after reading the article. Sure there were other articles I could I read, some mentioning me more than others, but I didn't have time. Then suddenly, it hit me. I don't know how I overlooked this for so long. I opened up a new search and typed in "Osaka." I cursed under my breath and said, "No stupid, that was her nickname." And it took me a minute to remember just what Osaka's real name had been. "Kasuga Ayumu . That's it," I finally said, and typed it into the search bar.

Articles on her death appeared, as was expected. And then articles on the death of her parents. Eventually, I discovered a tabloid article entitled, "Kasuga Murder/Suicide – Work of Dead Daughter?" I quickly skimmed the contents and learned that a neighbor lady had overheard some kind of domestic involving an unexplained voice, but when she'd gone to the police, they hadn't believed her story.

"Tomo, go home. I know what you're doing and it's time to stop." Chief hollered from his office.

"Right," I answered, my eyes sticking to the screen. I did a quick search on the woman that the tabloid interviewed, Senzuki-san. Only moments later and I had her address. Printing the page, I grabbed my coat, things, and paper just as Chief stepped out of his office to shoo me away. "I'm going. I'm going."

"Yeah, just stay out of trouble," I heard him say, but I was too far out the door to care. If this lady had any information which might lead me to Osaka, then it was worth a shot. I didn't necessarily believe Osaka was behind this, but maybe this lead would take me to Kagura. I still had my uniform on so I'd just make it look like a follow-up or something; not that she'd believe me.

Arriving at the Senzuki household, I stepped out onto a perfectly cut lawn. Faded green, the grass would've died if cut any shorter. A fence separated the neighboring property with a stale garden leaning up against it. I stepped up to the front door and rang the bell. The sour chime that plays at every clock in every city at every hour echoed within the house. I don't know why, but that tune annoyed the hell out of me. In high school it didn't bother me so much, but once I got down to filing papers at the station, every single clock in the building would chime away the same tune; and of course no two clocks told the same time. Maybe that's why I hated it so much.

A bustling of feet and the door opened; finally. An elderly woman stood before me, her eyes studying me over like she didn't know what to do. She must've glanced at my badge five or six times before saying anything. "Yes dear, how may I help you? I'm not interested in donating to any fundraiser if that's what you're here for."

"Oh no, that's not it," I said quickly. "I'm actually here because I wanted to ask you a few questions . . ."

"Oh! Well it's about time," Senzuki-san said, "Come on in dear and we'll talk all about it."

Confused, I entered her house and removed my shoes. Was she some sort of psychic or are we on totally different wave lengths? After insisting on me taking a seat, I watched her rush off to prepare some tea. Generous host, but something felt wrong here. Maybe it was the open window with the nice view into the next house, with a pair of binoculars resting on a nearby rocker. Or maybe it was the fact that I caught her sneaking a glance into the living room to see what I was doing, an offense she regularly repeated. It made me wonder whether or not she had a telescope sitting next to a window on the second the floor.

Returning with the tea, Senzuki-san carefully poured me out a cup as if one spill would instantly stain. "Here you go officer. Now, let me tell you what's been going on. I hate wasting time and so much has been wasted already. I've called your offices seven times since that couple moved in, and they are the noisiest bunch of . . ."

"Wait, that's not what I'm here for," I interjected. Senzuki-san stopped and looked at me as if I was out of my mind. But I ignored her and continued, "My name is Officer Takino and I'm here about an interview you did almost ten years ago. It involved the Kasugas. Do you remember?"

She then became very busy with doing nothing, as if I had upset her. When I attempted to calm her down, she spat, "Are you here to make fun of me too? Just like those reporters from that magazine? Well go ahead and laugh. I know what I heard."

"Wait. You don't understand. I'm not here to make fun of you. I just want to hear the story; whatever you remember." Senzuki-san considered this in her outrageously pink dress. It was as if she had gotten all dressed up just for me; or at least anyone who happened to stop by.

"Very well," Senzuki-san released, and sipping up some tea, she said, "I don't remember so clearly anymore. But I'll tell you what I do remember." Setting her cup down, she gave me that look from when she first saw me, those penetrating eyes, probably try to determine why I was really there. "Well Mr. Kasuga had just returned from work. I remember he couldn't stand being at work so late cause his wife was in such a state. She was depressed you know. Almost hung herself, but he didn't want anyone to know of course. So there I was in the garden, watering my lilies when there was this commotion from the Kasuga house."

"Was that their house," I asked, pointing out the open window, past the fence with the garden.

"Yes. They always kept it so clean."

"How could hear them?"

"Well they had the windows open cause the Mr. gets warm so fast. And at first, all I heard were the greetings that they always exchanged when Mr. Kasuga got back home. He was such a gentleman. But then I heard a third voice, a voice I know I'd heard before. And it wasn't long after that the couple was a fighting." Senzuki-san paused for a moment to take another drink.

"Did they have many fights?" I noticed her eyes had slowly crept over to the window.

"Of course they did. Just over little things though; like any married couple. But this was different. Mr. Kasuga was in an uproar, sayin things like "That's not her!" and "We could never do such a thing!" Well he was hell bent on something and I could hear his wife crying." She paused for a moment to clear her throat. "I felt terrible for the woman. Mrs. Kasuga was always a sweet lady, always visiting with me. My husband had passed away years ago and she always kept me company when I was feeling lonely."

"What happened next?"

"Well, they argued and then, and I'll never forget this. I heard Mrs. Kasuga shout, "But she's our daughter!" Well I knew that their little Ayumu had passed away two years prior; and how that tragedy tore that poor woman apart, as it would any mother. And then I heard that third voice again, more clearly. It was that of a young girl."

"Was it Ayumu?"

Senzuki-san nodded her head, "It sounded just like her. But there was something wrong with her voice. I never did see exactly who the girl was, but the way she spoke . . . could've turned your skin to marble."

"What did she say?"

Troubled, Senzuki-san said, "Why she asked them for help. She said, "Mom, dad. I'm in trouble. And I need your help." She said something else that I couldn't make out and that really set off Mr. Kasuga. He bellered something so rude I think it shook his wife to silence. But I never heard the girl after that. It was like she had vanished."

"How long after that was the murder/suicide?"

"Why just a couple of days. It's sad too. They were such a nice couple." Then, Senzuki-san got up and walked over to the window where she stared out at the neighbors. Her voice becoming irritated, she said, "You should hear the people that live there now. The noises they make. You know a person almost can't stand to be next to them." Turning to me, Senzuki-san raised an eyebrow and said, "You don't believe me, do you?"

"I don't know, "I answered truthfully.

"Then why are you here?"

I had no answer. A lump seemed to catch in my throat and I couldn't answer. I just smiled and said, "Just looking for a friend." The woman made an exasperated sort of "Hmph" and turned back to her window. When she wouldn't talk to me anymore, I let myself out and drove home.


	10. Chapter 10

Well here we are with another chapter! Now this doesn't move the story too far ahead, but this chapter is needed. After this chapter things are going to start moving much faster. On a side note, I've noticed that with my writing (after doing a spelling and grammar check) that I like using fragments. They seem to capture certain aspects of the story just right. So if you wonder about them, they're there on purpose. Now, enough from me. Enjoy this chapter and please review if you are able. I'd love to hear what you think of this chapter and/or the story so far. Enjoy.

**Chapter 10**

I flipped through the article. Work had become pointless as it was obvious Chief wasn't going to put me back on the streets. So, in-between filing papers and whatnot, I worked on Kagura's case (whether or not it was my break). I'd remember hearing one of my coworkers mentioning that once Chief's trust was lost, it was almost impossible to regain. I attributed that to the sore butt I had from sitting all the time.

Opening the next article in my search results section, I read the title, "Mysterious Weeping Girl Spotted." Recently, I'd discovered a whole trove of newspaper clippings recording various sightings of a "weeping girl" whom multiple people have seen in several different locations. Originally I'd ignored them as mere gossip. But two of the articles had dates which coincided with the death of Osaka's parents and the disappearance of Kagura. Now maybe these articles were just a wild goose chase, but I couldn't help but connect the two as both described an eerie high school aged girl who wept (within blocks of either the murder/suicide or the disappearance) to herself and upon noticing the onlooker, she would vanish. And both had taken place only days after the Osaka related events. I printed both articles to study and bringing them back to my desk, I was about to read when l heard my name.

"Takino-san," Chief yelled, "In my office now!"

Shoving the two pages under some books, I walked into his office and closed the door upon his request. Grabbing a seat, I watched him fling a manila folder at me and he said, "Takino-san, do you know what that is?"

I wanted to say, "It's a brown folder," but Chief's expression quickly informed me that it wouldn't pay to be a smartass. So, I shrugged my shoulders and shook my head. "No idea."

Chief leaned back in his chair, crossed his arms and said, "It's your file; well part of it. Takino-san, I'm worried about you. That folder details all the work you have done that relates to the Kagura case, and any other cases you've been independently working on; spare time or otherwise. There are copies of everything that you've looked up on our archives, along with multiple phone transcripts from concerned citizens about your "visits." Do you understand?"

This wasn't the first meeting I've had with Chief regarding this topic. He'd said his spiel, and now he'd hear mine; again. "Listen Chief. It's 2015. Almost three years have passed since Kagura disappeared and no one is any closer to finding her than the day she vanished. Now I . . ."

"You have been working on a case that's not yours. You wanna help, fine. But when I see you out there, messing around on your computer, it worries me. Takino-san, when I give you a job, I expect you to do it. Whether it's filling out overtime sheets or picking up my mail, I don't care what you think of the job. I expect you to get it done. Now, if you wanna go chase ghosts during your break time, fine by me. But I will not have an officer conducting unauthorized investigations because one of her high school buddies disappeared! Do I make myself clear?"

"Perfectly."

"Then get out. And I don't want to hear about anymore of this. I'm sorry Takino-san but you'll have to be written up for it. I've given you far too many warnings."

I should've punched him. While the dumbass is worrying about me and a few small interviews, Kagura's family constantly calls the station, checking for updates. They worry about her and still hope that their daughter can somehow be found alive. I had my doubts. Nearly three years and no word; after that much time I think people around here have begun to think she's not going to turn up at all. The rest of the day passed without event. I filed papers and stowed away a few more articles for later.

When I got home, I unpacked my things and pulled out the articles that I'd found today. Sitting at my desk, I stared up at the bulletin board with other articles, pictures, and police report copies stuck randomly across it. _I think I need more thumbtacks_. Glancing over the clippings, they told me little. Someone saw a high school aged girl crying somewhere and she vanished when she noticed them. Both articles used words like "faded red," "dark pink," and "sailor outfit" to describe the uniform she wore. Out of curiosity, I pulled open my wardrobe and checked my high school uniforms which my parents made me keep for "sentimental reasons." Really they just got in the way. But when I pulled out the fall/winter uniform, I'd found my match. Sailor type of faded red/dark pink uniform with long sleeves and was most definitely too small for me now. Setting it aside I returned to my desk and flipped through a few other clippings. More of the same tabloid ghost sightings, but none stuck out. Scratching my head, I muttered, "Osaka, what'd you do to Kagura?"

"Tomo."

My head bolted up from the desk and I whirled around to find Yomi. The startle she'd caused me had actually made her jump as well. She looked tired and ragged. But nowadays, she always did. Turning back to my desk, I looked over the mess of papers and sighed. "Sorry Yomi. If it's about supper, I'll be over in a few minutes. Just wanted to look over a few more things."

"Tomo, it's after eight."

"What!" I shot an eye to the clock and sure enough, almost quarter after. I hadn't even realized I'd spent so much time brooding over this. "Sorry Yomi, I didn't mean to . . ."

"It's alright," Yomi squeaked out. I heard her shuffle over to my desk and placing a hand on the edge of the desk, she peered over my head. Her hand wore a couple pieces of jewelry, nothing fabulous or expensive. Heck I think one of the rings was one I'd bought her for Christmas last year. Her knuckles though were red, irritated by something. As of late they'd been getting redder and redder and Yomi claims it's due to work. And what could I say to argue? "What's all of this about Tomo? You're not still going on about Kagura are you?"

"I don't know. I'm trying." Yomi knew quite well that I'd been attempting to crack the case, but with no more to go on then the rest of the investigators, I was stuck. "The closest thing to a lead I got is all this ghost crap with Osaka. But she's dead. There's the article." I pointed to the copy of the clipping regarding the Kiyohiko High fire from when we graduated. Yomi glanced at it with only mild interest. "There's gotta be something I'm missing."

Yomi sighed. I could tell she didn't know what to think of this. But since I'd started really working on this case, I've felt compelled to solve it. It'd keep me up at night so I wouldn't be able to sleep. Whenever the investigators discovered something, I was always the first one to ask them questions. Yet they scoffed at me whenever I'd try to help. "Why don't you have something to eat," Yomi suggested.

Because Yomi I . . ." and all my frustration left me when I turned to see her face. She wasn't trying to be polite; she was almost begging me to come with her. She was depressed again. I could see it breaking her face and leaving her exhausted. I suddenly felt horrible for not being more aware of the time. So I agreed and followed Yomi out and into her apartment. The table had probably been set for hours so it was to no surprise that when I sat down and started eating, everything was cold.

Yomi paid no attention to the food's temperature as she hardly ate a thing. I wonder if she was getting sick again. Tired of the awkward silence that had followed us into her apartment, I attempted to spark up conversation. "So, how was work?"

Yomi mumbled something that I didn't catch and figured it'd be best not to ask her to repeat. Unable to stand it any longer, I asked, "Alright Yomi, what's wrong? Is it Yuuko again? I know you guys haven't been on the best of terms lately." Which was definitely true. I think Yuuko has been trying to end the relationship for a while. But Yomi hasn't made it easy for him. For quite some time, she's been grasping at straws, searching for ways to revive their long dead relationship.

And I think this is why she dropped by my apartment. She wanted to talk about it. "Well," Yomi began, "I talked to him today."

"About what?"

". . . Marriage . . ."

I cringed at the word. Yomi was visibly taken aback by my reaction, but nothing I could say would soften the blow. "Yomi, I don't think he wants to . . ."

"I know we've had our fights. It's been really rough on the both of us, but we've hung in there."

"That's a very one-sided evaluation of the situation Yomi," is what I wanted to say but couldn't bring myself to. "What'd he say?"

"He got real nervous. He said he wasn't interested, said he didn't want to commit to me like that." Though she wasn't crying a few tears streamed down her face. "How can he say that? After how many years of going out? After I took him back when he cheated on me? I mean, what else could he possibly want?"

I set down a cold meatball stuffed with peppers. Downing the soda in my cup, the dreadful taste refused to leave my mouth. "Yomi," I said, as I got up and walked over to her. "The guy Yuuko is now is not the guy you fell in love with. I wonder how much he even cares about you anymore. Seriously, when was the last time he gave you something? Flowers, a ring, or even the last time he bought you dinner? Or forget that kind of crap, when's the last time he kissed you? Don't you understand?" Yomi's eyes widened as I said all this. I'd never made her cry before but I think I had pretty good chances of doing it tonight. "He doesn't love you anymore. Admit it. It's over." She glared angrily at me and when I tried to comfort her, Yomi tensed at my touch.

"Get out."

I didn't argue. I just grabbed my things and walked over to the door. Before leaving though, I said, "I'm sorry Yomi. I really am. But I just wanna help. I don't want to lose you." And with that I left her apartment.

Back in my room, I shuffled through the rooms until I reached my desk. Yomi could be so difficult sometimes; made me want to scream! How could things turn out like this? Why isn't Yomi talking sense into me anymore? I know everything can't stay the same but . . . My thoughts trailed off as I glanced up at the bulletin board stuffed with all sorts of clippings. Grabbing a copy of the Kiyohiko High Fire, I briefly read over it and sighed. "We all changed that day." I rarely thought about the fire, but I remember Chiyo being lucky. The funeral stuck in my mind more so than the fire itself . . .

* * *

><p>I felt cheated. Standing here out in the cold. Everyone in black. How could she? How could she do this to me; to all of us? Leave it to Osaka. Everyone else made it out, but not her. And to make matters worse, she didn't even leave us her body. So why the hell did we have to come out to this damn graveyard when there was nothing to bury? I looked over to Yomi, to Sakaki who cradled Chiyo in her arms; and to Kagura who couldn't so much as look at the tombstone that had been picked out. No one spoke, only the person conducting the burial spoke. I had no idea what his title was, never paid any attention to that. Should I call him a priest, a shaman? Oh well, I didn't care.<p>

". . . and in the abyss of death, let our daughter Kasuga Ayumu find peace and eternal rest . . ." His dry words rambled on and on with the same religious crap that somehow was supposed to make me feel better. How could anyone be at peace when all we were burying was a box full of ashes that were only assumed to be Osaka's remains? What a joke.

The old man's ramblings came to a halt and one by one, black uniform after black uniform approached the coffin for their final goodbyes. Even though I hated this, hated this whole funeral and hated that priest for what he said, I couldn't restrain my chest from heaving and suddenly there were tears rolling down my cheeks. God it felt like forever for us to get our turn. Osaka's parents must've stood up there for hours, and then her relatives took equally long. I half expected the sun to set before we'd even get close.

But then Chiyo and Sakaki were up. Sakaki stood tall and stiff like a tree. She had wrapped an arm around Chiyo who barely touched the coffin. Sakaki wouldn't or maybe couldn't bring herself to touch it. They stood awkwardly, eventually being lead away by the priest. I watched Chiyo leave and noticed how she just stared off into space, right through everyone, including me. Like she didn't see us at all.

My chest tightened as Kagura stepped up to the plate. I'd be next. Suddenly, I wanted to throw up; wanted to run away and never face the box that stood before me. Kagura cried. No one touched her, but she stood there and cried, both hands on the coffin for support. I'd never heard her cry before. She sounded so lost, so out of reach. I half expected her to pass out right there. But she didn't. Kagura being Kagura, she stood her ground. My chest heaved again as Kagura joined Chiyo and Sakaki. My turn.

I approached the coffin, afraid to touch it. Ridiculous really. We didn't even know what kind of ashes were piled in there; could've been a chalkboard for all we knew. But I couldn't believe that. My head swirled with emotions. "Why," I whispered, as if she'd hear me. "Why'd you do this to us? Are you really that big of an airhead?" I felt Yomi's hand rubbing my shoulder. She said something to me that I didn't catch. "We were going to college. We were gonna be roommates. Stupid," my anger returned. I couldn't believe Osaka would just ditch us like that. "What's wrong with you," I said, louder than a whisper.

"Tomo, calm down."

Yomi's voice came from behind but it was like I couldn't hear her, or wouldn't. "Bonklers are supposed to stick together and you do something like this and . . ." My fists were practically beating on the coffin, trying to wake that pile of black shit up. Tears blurred my eyes and I suddenly felt arms smothering me, pulling me away from the coffin. "You stupid, stupid, stupid . . ." I could've screamed at that coffin if it wasn't for whoever was pulling me away. And maybe I did. I couldn't think straight. I just struggled, trying to get out of the grip that was firmly pulling me away. I wanted to run back, and give that coffin a piece of my mind.

"Tomo get a grip. Control yourself damnit!" I wouldn't listen to Yomi's protests but we were far away from the gravesite. I slumped in her grip and fell to the ground; almost cracking my head on someone else's grave; sobbing. "She's gone Tomo."

* * *

><p>I bolted up in my desk and glanced around. The Kiyohiko High Fire article sitting under my arms like a pillow. <em>Must've dozed off. <em>I glanced around for a clock. "After midnight already," I said yawning. I rubbed my forehead, remembering the dream. That was the last time we had really seen each other as a group. Thinking back to supper, "I wonder how Yomi's . . ." But I stopped as a strange noise caught my attention. Almost as if someone was shuffling their feet out in the hallway. Was it Yomi?

Maybe she wanted to apologize for what she said. It wouldn't be the first time anyway. But the shuffling couldn't be her. If it was Yomi, I would've found her in my room. She always let herself in when she needed me for something. So it couldn't be her. I considered going back to the desk for my gun but decided against it. Reaching the door, the shuffling outside stopped. Did they hear me? I glanced out the peep hole and into the hallway; empty. _My imagination? _Opening the door, I stepped out and looked around. At the end of the hallway, a flutter of hair caught my eye as someone rushed round the corner and out of sight. "Wait!"

Chasing after them, I hurried to the corner and stumbled down the stairs, two at a time. As I reached the bottom, I caught sight again along with a bit of red as she rounded another corner towards the lobby. I felt my heart racing as I pumped my legs to run faster, knowing that whoever she was, she wanted out. Fortunately, I knew a shortcut to the lobby so I'd be able to cut off my mystery guest. One of the perks for living here so long I guess.

Round a corner and past some old closets, through the Laundromat and past the kitchen. The lobby was right there. I shoved through the doors and focused on the entrance where my little friend would be coming. I briefly thought that maybe I should've grabbed something to defend myself with as I didn't even know what this girl wanted. But from the glances I got of her, I wasn't worried. "Come on where are you? I know you're coming this way."

The door to my right slammed shut, catching my immediate attention. _That couldn't have been her. I would've seen her. I know it. _My thoughts raced as I stepped closer to the exit. How'd she get out without me seeing her? I stepped outside into the dark cool air but no one was there. One step off the sidewalk and I fell flat on my face. "Damn step," I cursed as I picked myself off the grass.

Clutching my forehead, I stood up and looked around. The apartment building was gone. Hell, it wasn't even dark anymore; more like mid-afternoon. Gray, dreary sky and somehow I was standing on the side of a road overlooking the bank of some river. "How'd I get here?" The bump on my head still hurt, but only just. I managed to ignore it while I searched for an explanation. And there at the bottom of the river bank stood the girl I'd been chasing from my apartment. She wore the faded reddish pink high school uniform that I'd worn. Her brown hair flowed straight down to her shoulders; she faced the water. It only took me a second to realize who that was. "O-Osaka?"

For a time, the girl said nothing but only stood there. Then she turned to me and suddenly she was wearing our school's swimsuit. Just like that, like the snap of a finger. Her piercing gaze met mine and I had to look away. "Tomo," Osaka said, in a flat cold voice, "It's not too late Tomo. You can still save her."

"Save? Save who," but Osaka didn't respond. She just turned back to the river and dove into the water. I started to chase after her but a loud ringing noise buzzed in my ears. It seemed to be coming from everywhere; the sky, the ground, and even the water . . .

* * *

><p>I awoke on the floor. My head throbbed as the buzzing of my alarm clock chirped wildly in the next room. Apparently some time during my nap at the desk, I'd managed to kick the chair out from under me. God my head hurt. I picked myself off the floor and quickly slapped off the alarm.<p>

Checking the clock, I considered calling in sick. But something tugged me toward the door. Maybe it was the dream I'd had. Osaka's words stuck in my head through the whole drive. Save her? It didn't make any sense. I wasn't trying to save anyone. The only case I'd been working on was the Kagura case, and that's not technically mine. Besides, what were the chances I'd even find her alive; if at all? "Wait, that river," I said, almost running a stop sign. "Osaka was trying to tell me something." Green light and l floored it. Fortunately none of my coworkers happened to be on traffic patrol within my vicinity. So I managed to arrive at the station with more than enough time to do a little "independent research."

I pulled out a reference map of Tokyo and sat down at my desk. "Let's see," I whispered as I scanned the map, trying to visualize the river from my dream. I'm sure that scene wasn't random. If there was any credit due to Osaka for everything I've learned about her, then . . .

"Takino-san, what are you doing here so early," Chief roared when he spotted me.

I paid him no attention as I noted out one or two possible bodies of water where Kagura might be. Certainly wasn't the ocean. I'd picked at least that much out of the dream. But where?

"Takino! I'm talking to you."

Damn, he sounds pissed. "What's wrong?"

"Look I don't know what you're doing but I'm gonna stop it before . . ."

"Kagura. She's in a river."

"What!"

I didn't wait for him to ramble on about God knows what. "Listen. Kagura's at the bottom of some river. Don't ask me how I know I just . . ." And I stopped. A piece of paper had caught my attention. It was lying right on the map of Tokyo. But I didn't put anything on the map. Ignoring Chief's ranting; I picked up the paper and found it blank except for a telephone number. Tossing aside the map, I grabbed the phone from my desk and dialed. Chief had shouted something about this "being the last straw" and stormed off into his office. Screw him, he'd thank me later.

"Hello?"

"Yes this is Officer Takino from the . . ."

"Yes yes I know who you are," the man on the other end said. "I'm sorry I didn't come forward about this sooner but . . . well that doesn't matter now." He sounded frantic, as if he didn't have the time to breathe let alone speak to me. "Anyways, I'll be right there to pick you up."

The man was about to hang up as I quickly asked, "Wait, who are you? What is this about?"

Confused he forgot his hurry and said, "She said you knew. Well, doesn't matter, I'll be there in a minute." He hung up before I got a chance to ask who he was talking about.

Snatching the map and my radio from the desk, I hurried out of the office before Chief could come after me. It wasn't long before a cab pulled up to the station and an old, middle aged man stepped out of the car. Slender build, his face was wrought with worry. He didn't wait for me to say or do anything. "Please get in. I'll explain on the way."

Nodding, I stepped down into the cab and we peeled out of the parking lot. "I'm sorry I didn't call you sooner. But I didn't hear about the disappearance and then I was afraid to say anything and . . ."

"What are you talking about?" I felt overwhelmed. The guy must've had the idea I was going to arrest him with his apologetic voice rambling on and on.

"The missing Olympic girl. Kagura. The day she disappeared. I saw her."

"You saw her?"

Fumbling with his words, the caddie stammered out, "Well, actually I drove her somewhere."

"Where," I shouted, scaring the cab driver, almost sending us into oncoming traffic.

"The Shinano River!"

Peeking at the map, I noticed the Shinano was a little ways north of Tokyo. _So why'd you go there? _I wondered. Putting away the thought, I instead asked, "What about this person who told you to call me. Who was she?"

"I-I don't know. But she told me she knew what I did." He spoke as if he broke the law, his voice shaking and his hands shivering on the wheel. "She said . . . she said I needed to call Officer Takino and she would take care of things. That's what the girl said."

I was about to ask him what that meant when the cab came to a sudden halt. "We're here," I heard him say and I silently stepped out of the cab. For a moment, I didn't move. I couldn't move. It was exactly the same river out of my dream. The river bank, the water, the road, everything. Even the dreary day matched my dream's atmosphere.

"Can I go now?" I glanced back at the cabbie who anxiously awaited his freedom. I nodded to him and as he pulled away the car stopped and he hollered at me, "She said one other thing. Something I'm supposed to say . . . Don't get distracted Tomo." And with that, he was gone.

I'd barely heard what he said and at the moment, I couldn't have cared less. I focused my attention back to the river. Just glancing around, I instantly found the spot where Osaka had dived into the water. So caught up in the shock of everything, I'd almost forgotten why I was even here. Pulling out my radio, I called through to the switchboard and immediately asked for Chief. He answered, very upset but I cut him off. "Chief. I know where Kagura is. Get down to the Shinano River now."

"What are you talking about Takino?"

"Just do it. I'm already here." I checked the nearest road sign for a more precise location and relayed it to him. He wasn't thrilled by my call but agreed. Setting the radio on the grass, I pulled off my jacket, pulled off my shoes and socks, and approached the spot Osaka had dived off. "Here goes nothing," I said as I took off into the cold water. It took me several seconds to adjust as I hadn't practiced any kind of swimming for years, so at first, I flailed around like an idiot. But soon enough, I was able to swim through the water gracefully enough.

It wasn't too difficult to reach the bottom, but it took some time for my eyes to get used to being open under the murky water. Everything stung. Back to the surface, I gasped for air. Nothing. But I wasn't about to give up. Taking a deep breath I dived back under towards the bottom and searched for as long as my breath could hold. Resurfaced, and nothing found. I dove again. Nothing. A few more repeats and I was sure my mind had sent me on a wild goose chase when after going down for the eighth or ninth time, something caught my eye. It looked like an arm, but discolored and pale. A knot formed in my chest when finally, I managed to connect the arm to body. Kagura. I wrapped her arm around my shoulder and grabbing her by the waist, we both headed straight for the surface.

My chest heaved when I finally hit top. With the extra weight on me, I slowly swam to shore; keeping my eyes off the body for fear of breaking down right there. Throwing Kagura onto land, I climbed up onto shore and concentrated on steadying my breathing. A screeching sound from above informed me backup was here.

"Takino-san! This is . . ." And he stopped in mid scream when he saw me. His eyes widened and his expression dropped. "Is that – is that her?"

I nodded, and finally took one good look at Kagura's body. Goose skin was the best way to describe it. It felt rough. Her hair was mangled with dirt, grass, bugs, and too many other things to describe. She had a swimsuit on, much like the one from high school. Her tanned skin was pale and patches of green and blue could be seen in various places. I could hardly look at her face. That's where I had to turn away. Couldn't look at her anymore.

Chief got off the radio and handed me a towel. "Listen Takino-san. I'm so sorry." He sighed and shook his head. "Any idea what caused it?"

Collecting myself, I thought for a moment and said, "I guess she still thought she could swim. She had a bad leg. I forget what it's called but she must have done something to it while swimming. I don't know."

"Well, we'll wait for the autopsy. Listen Takino-san, I know I've been a bit of a . . ." but his radio interrupted his apology and Chief had to turn for a brief conversation. It didn't bother me. I didn't really want to hear what he had to say. I just felt gross. The texture of Kagura's skin still sent chills down my back. It'd had an almost pimply texture to it and she was so cold. All I wanted to do was go home and shower and not think about anything.

"Takino-san," Chief said, finishing the call on his radio. "Why don't we talk about this later? Take the day off will ya?" I was about to comment when he said, "It's not about this, not entirely anyway. The office got a call about your friend Yomi-san. Something about her being in the hospital?" Noticing my worry, he quickly added, "It doesn't sound serious. But she does need a ride home." I nodded and we moved in silence as we covered Kagura's body up, gathered my things, and waited for the coroner.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

I hurried through the long hallways of Cherish. It was a rather new hospital and had only been completed about five years ago. Thus everything I walked by sparkled in the fluorescent lights. But the place felt like an endless maze. All I wanted was someone who could point me in Yomi's direction. I hadn't even located the front desk yet. Finally, up ahead sat a nurse behind what I assumed to be a desk. It looked more like a crescent moon. I reached the desk and asked, "Excuse me, but do you know what room Yomi's in?"

"Who?"

"Mizuhara Koyomi. I was told she'd be here."

The nurse fiddled with some things on her computer before turning back to me and answering, "Yes. Go down that hall and take the last left. They should have her in one of the recovery rooms."

"Thanks," I said and started down the hallway. Though not a terribly long hallway, it had enough of a bend in it. I reached the end and took my left. After that, I spent a few minutes just peaking in different rooms to see which one she was in. For a recovery room, these things sure were small. Oh well, the fourth door I'd checked appeared to have my person of interest. I stepped inside and found Yomi sitting up on the doctor's chair, her leg in a cast; small bandages and gauze in various places on her arms and face.

I tried to sound cheerful when I called her, but it came out rather fake. "Hey Yomi! What happened to you?"

"Nothing. I just fell," she shrugged.

Before I could say anything more, the doctor walked in and said, "Well it looks like you had a nasty fall, but no serious injury." He completely ignored me as he spoke to Yomi. "If anything Mizuhara-san, that leg of yours is going to take some time to heal up. You did a mighty fine job of breaking it so you'll wanna stay off it for a while. As far as the rest of your cuts and bruises go, I'd say keep them covered for at least the rest of the day and then see where you are." The doctor only nodded at me before he left.

With Yomi free to go, I helped her into the car and we started driving. "So, what happened?"

"I just slipped on the ladder in the back room and fell. That's all."

Her voice was a little sharp, maybe annoyed. "Well it's a good thing you've got a big butt Yomi, or you would've broken your back," I said, giving her the biggest smile I could muster.

Yomi just angrily shook her head and stared out the window. Maybe that was too far; but she really should lighten up. Apologizing, I said, "Don't worry Yomi. I'll take some days off work to help out. I could sleep on the couch in your apartment if you like . . ."

"You don't have to trouble yourself," Yomi snapped, but then she sighed and said, "Sorry Tomo. I didn't mean it. Could we just go home?"

"Sure," I eventually answered, allowing the remainder of the drive to pass in silence.

I helped Yomi up the stairs and into her room. After a few trips back to the car for things like crutches, medication, my wallet; I was finally able to relax with Yomi for a few minutes. For a while, neither of us spoke a word. But eventually Yomi blurted out, "Yuuko and I broke up."

I about did a double-take. "W-What?"

Yomi nodded and continued, "Last night. You were right. I don't know how Tomo, but you were right about everything. No smartass comments." Damn she shot me down fast. "That's kind of why I fell. I was distracted."

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

"What is there to say? He walked in while I was working. I didn't know what to think. I guess I thought he had decided something on that marriage idea that I had brought up. But nope. Nothing like that . . ."

* * *

><p>I'd been working the cash register for most of the morning. Business had been slow during the noon hour, which was unusual for the restaurant. I noticed some surprised glances towards the clock as I stood like an idiot in front of an empty counter. It was the manager's policy. Someone always had to "man the register" at all times. If no one stood there, it somehow reflected the lack of the restaurant's duty of immediately responding to a customer; or something like that. So there I stood, waiting for someone, anyone to walk through the door and give me something to do besides smiling at the odd person or two who'd walk past into the restrooms.<p>

When I finally saw someone walk in, I was a little more than surprised to see Yuuko firmly approaching the register. With his hard face and the way he shuffled his hands in his pockets, I could tell he wanted to talk to me about something. However, I didn't want to rush things so I allowed him to take his time until he stood opposite the counter, glancing up as if to order; his bangs falling neatly out of place and into his way. "I guess I'll order the usual for now. And if you have a minute we need to talk." The whole time, his eyes never left the menu above me.

I entered in his order which thank God the machine took, and stepped back to ask the manager about my break. With hardly any customers around, he gladly gave me a small lunch break while one of the new gals took my place at the register. Returning to Yuuko, I said, "Your order will be ready in a minute. Find a table and I'll be right there." He nodded and sulked off.

Hurrying to the back, I quickly prepared myself a small cup of milk tea. I wasn't feeling particularly hungry and besides, we had strict limitations on what we could make for ourselves during break. So I grabbed my cup along with Yuuko's lunch and headed out to meet him. He wasn't hard to find, a bit of a burly man. He had the smallest traces of a mustache and always carried a pair of sunglasses in his shirt pocket. Taking a seat across from him, I nervously twirled my thumbs with the cup between them. I didn't really know if I should speak first or let Yuuko do the talking. I mean, on one hand if I started the conversation then I'd have more control; but on the other it might put Yuuko off. He didn't like feeling as though he had no control over a situation. In the end, I decided it best to let him do the talking. After all, I was still reeling from yesterday when he'd so coldly rejected my idea of marriage. It still hurt to think that a guy who'd been going out with me for so long would be totally against commitment. I watched Yuuko finish off his meal. I'd probably end up paying for it again. But maybe it'd be worth it.

"Yomi," Yuuko said, fidgeting with his sunglasses. "I thought about yesterday. And I don't think it's gonna work. I don't think nothings gonna work."

"What are you talking about? If it's about the marriage thing, then . . ."

"Not only that Yomi," Yuuko interrupted, his voice solid, "but everything. Nothing's working out between us. I wanna call it quits."

"What," my voice had been reduced to a whisper. Instantaneously I was reminded of what Tomo had said last night, but I hadn't wanted to believe it. _We could work things out. We always did before. _That's what I had thought. Yuuko and I had withstood the test of time for so long and he wanted to call it quits? "Why would you want to do that? We've been through a lot togeh . . ."

"There's someone else, Yomi." His cold words stunned me to silence. He didn't even try adding sympathy to his voice when he'd said that. It just slipped right out as casually as a hello.

All I managed to say in response was, "Who?"

"No one you'd know. Now look . . ."

"WHO?" I couldn't stop it from coming out. I could hardly keep myself from slapping him. The only thing that held me back was the fact that I was at work. The boss wouldn't appreciate an associate attacking one of his customers.

Yuuko got defensive at my questioning and blurted, "That's none of your business! Now I tried making this relationship work but it just wasn't going anywhere. You kept nagging and nagging about the same old boring shit. I tried dropping hints that I wanted out but you were too ignorant to notice."

My mouth hung open. I couldn't remember it dropping, but half the restaurant must've seen it as Yuuko's aggravation easily carried across the room. But somehow, none of that mattered. "Not going anywhere? I wanted to start a family with you!"

"Yeah, well maybe I didn't." His words were final. He didn't add another letter, but just glared at me, as if it was my fault. He simply got up out of his seat, and left. Just as I had suspected, I was left with the bill.

I silently cleaned up the table, whispers fading in and out of the now awkwardly quiet restaurant. I'd catch morsels of conversation between the customers and eventually threw down my rag when the manager came out to check on me. I didn't even wait for him to say anything. I just briskly walked by and said, "I'm gonna do inventory." He neither questioned me nor stopped me. He just nodded his head as I passed by.

* * *

><p>Yomi shrugged her shoulders helplessly. "That's why I fell. I went to the back and tried to do some inventory. My foot slipped on the ladder and down I went." Yomi's body shivered as she hugged herself, her voice quaking. "That's it. Yuuko's ran off with some tramp, and he's not coming back."<p>

I wanted to say something, but everything I thought about saying would've only sound like "I told you so." And Yomi didn't need that kind of comfort. So I sat in silence, listening to Yomi sniffle. She was holding back her tears, but they were still creeping through.

Yomi's face contorted as she continued. I wished she wouldn't, but she had to let it out and I needed to be there for her. "I bet this other girl weighs half as much as I do. It's just like that time he cheated on me. That bitch couldn't have weighed half of . . ."

"Stop Yomi," I couldn't take it any longer, "Yuuko did not dump you because you were fat. The guy's an asshole. I mean, you look about as good now as you did back in high school. How many girls can say that? And considering Yuuko cheated on you once, I'm willing to bet he's been with this girl for a while."

Defeated, Yomi nodded her head. I hated to see her like this, but maybe things would turn for the better once she got over it. With a sarcastic chuckle, Yomi asked, "So, how was your day?"

A bit baffled by the sudden question, I had to think about how to reply. The image of Kagura's body when I pulled it out; I knew that image would haunt me, just like that kid I'd shot. But did I really want to tell Yomi about everything? Especially after what happened to her today? I was about to wave it off when I caught her staring at me. She looked worried. Her own troubles masked, she anxiously waited for my response. "Yeah, something did happen today."

"What, "Yomi asked, the only traces of Yuuko were drying on her cheeks.

"We found Kagura. She's dead. Found her at the bottom of the Shinano River."

I stopped so that Yomi could take this all in. "How'd she die?"

"Well. There hasn't been an autopsy yet, but I bet I know. After Kagura was visited by Osaka, she probably got upset and wanted to prove that she could still compete. So she snuck off and tried to swim in the Shinano River. Well her one leg had that osteomyelitis in it and it probably gave out. Unable to swim, she drowned. But I don't know how she ended up at the bottom of the river."

"Osaka. Would the autopsy be able to explain Kagura seeing Osaka?"

"I don't know. With the body being lost for so long, I don't know what they'll find. But she was well preserved in that cold water." I shivered just thinking about it. The touch of Kagura's clammy skin alone sent goose bumps down my back.

"How'd they find her?"

I kind of hoped that Yomi wouldn't ask that. I stumbled around some words and caught Yomi's suspicious stares. "Uh, some tip I think."

"Something wrong Tomo?"

The question had pulled me out of thought. "What do mean?"

"You look like you're upset about something." I was silent. I couldn't respond because I was afraid of what I might say. Yomi took this as confirmation of her suspicions and prodded further. "Is it about Osaka or Kagura? Sometimes I have a hard time telling which one you were looking for."

Yomi was serious. How she was able to completely drop the subject of Yuuko amazed me. It's like that didn't even matter right now. Lets face it. Yomi was tough. Tougher than I'd ever be. Which is why I faltered and told her everything; from my dream on up to my discovery of Kagura. ". . . But what I don't get is, why'd Osaka tell me I was running out of time? Kagura's been dead, probably for three years. What could I be running out of time with?"

I knew Yomi'd been a little taken aback by what I said. For a moment, she didn't seem to know how to respond. But eventually, her voice became firm and she grasped one of my shoulders tightly, catching me off guard. "Tomo, I know you've gone through a lot lately. But this thing with Kagura and Osaka has seriously been affecting you. Osaka is dead. And that was a dream. It meant nothing. The girl that the cab driver spoke to could have easily been someone from where she worked or something."

I still doubted that, but I nodded not wanting to argue. Yomi, satisfied with my response, or lack of, tried putting on a smile but failed. Her lips quivered as she said, "So, wanna help me walk with my crutches? I need to get used to them sometime."

* * *

><p>Tomo stopped for a moment to catch her breath. She'd become agitated by having to relive all this again. Sakaki suspected that Tomo hadn't spoken of these events at all since they happened all those years ago. And from what Sakaki learned at being a vet, she knew that discussing traumatic events with others and understanding your feelings was one of the most important steps to moving on. Yet it was hard on Sakaki because she'd felt so far out of the loop. She couldn't remember hearing about Kagura's disappearance or death and she felt guilty because Kagura always hung out with her in high school.<p>

When Sakaki glanced over to Chiyo, she could see that all this was taking a toll on her little friend as well. Even though Chiyo had been so persistent on hearing about Osaka, the constant bombardment of Yomi's hardships had to affect her. Chiyo remained silent however, and just kept her eyes on her lap; looking as frail as ever.

When Tomo had recovered, she continued, "Yomi never did recover from that breakup. Yuuko had meant more to her than I ever could have imagined. A few months later she got put on antidepressants. Things started getting weird after that. Coworkers were calling, worried about Yomi. And eventually, she was fired because they caught her swiping food from the back." Tomo stopped as tears welled up her eyes. Sakaki moved to comfort her but Tomo didn't accept. After insisting she was okay, Tomo went on. "She eventually moved in with me. It could be so hard being around her. But it was mid October of 2017 when things finally got out of control. We were eating dinner and Yomi seemed to be having a good day . . ."

* * *

><p>I sat across from Yomi, snacking on some ramen that we'd heated up from yesterday. It was a little stale, but edible. Yomi looked tired, and pale too. Sometimes I wondered whether she slept or not. And maybe it was just me, but as of late, she'd really let herself go as far as health was concerned. Hell, I can't remember the last time Yomi tried a diet. She's put on some weight too; not a lot but it was noticeable. "How was your day," I asked, hoping she wouldn't respond with the usual "oaky."<p>

"Not bad. They brought back that TV show I used to watch." Yomi's lips smacked over her yellow teeth as she spoke. Another thing that bothered me. Her teeth always used to be so white; I think she bought the toothpaste in bulk. But now, it's like she hasn't brushed in ages. "I didn't think they'd ever bring it back. It's just one of those things you know."

I nodded as Yomi continued. _Good for her. She has so few nice days like this. _I thought as Yomi trailed off on some in depth analysis of her show. I never did catch the name of it. But it didn't matter. Yomi was having a good day. As she talked, she seemed to eat a little more too. "So Yomi," I began, wondering how she'd react.

"Huh, what?"

"Did you wanna watch something with me later?"

"What?" That change in tone was fast. But it was welcoming to hear that suspicious tone that was oh so reserved for me.

"I don't know. How about Panty and Stocking?"

Yomi about spurted out her drink. "That's the last thing I'd want to watch."

"Why not," I teased.

"Why not?" Yomi set down her cup and gave me one of her trademark looks. I hadn't seen it in so long that I'd almost forgotten it. "Tomo how can you watch such garbage? That show is so juvenile that . . ." And Yomi stopped speaking. I was about to comment on it when she opened her mouth in a sickening belch and suddenly everything she'd eaten spilled out onto the table.

"Yomi!" The sudden vomiting scared her more than me and I jumped up from my seat. I ran over to her as more gushed out and when she brought her head back, it slowed to a stop. Yomi started crying immediately and I wrapped an arm around her as her head lowered and more came rushing out of her and onto the floor.

"Bathroom," Yomi managed in-between bursts.

I nodded and led her to the bathroom where she closed the door. While Yomi's gags could be heard clear out into the kitchen, I busied myself with cleaning things up. _Why tonight? She was having such a good day too._

* * *

><p>Tomo stopped for a second to clear her throat when a knock on the door interrupted everyone. Misagi-sensei poked her head in and, surprised by Chiyo's amount of company, said, "Sorry, but I'll have to ask you to leave. I need to give Mihama-san her medication and then she'll need some rest."<p>

Sakaki nodded along with Tomo and together they walked towards the door.

"Tomo." Chiyo burst. Tomo turned and Chiyo said, "Will you finish your story tomorrow?"

"Yeah. I'll be back."

Chiyo nodded and lay back in bed, her face blank. With that, Sakaki led Tomo out of the hospital. Not a word passed as they exited the building.


	12. Chapter 12

Alright, well here is chapter 12! The major reason for this fast update is the fact that I had a good start on this chapter when Chapter 11 was posted. There will probably be a bit longer wait with Chapter 13; though I have started it. Anyways, I kind of wanted to mention Melmoth the Wanderer in this note because though that is what this story is based on, I never seem to mention it. Chiyo, Osaka and the others are like modern equivalents of characters from Melmoth. It was either that or actually insert Melmoth into the story, but Osaka has The Wanderer's role and I think that actually works better. I won't ramble on too much long, but I do want to ask: How's the story so far? I've hardly received any reviews and would really like to know how things are going. The story as it is will be coming to a close soon. Chapter 17 will be the last. Otherwise if you have a minute, I'd like to know how this chapter went. Things are really picking up and I'm curious of people's opinions. What do think of the switching between POVs? Well, whatever you, I just want everyone to read and enjoy. So have at it :)

**Chapter 12**

Sakaki stepped into the hospital. It was just past noon so Chiyo should be done eating. Tomo never said what time she'd be back but Sakaki figured it wouldn't be until later. That'd give her some time to discuss things with Chiyo, and if she was up for more of this. She didn't know if Tomo had noticed, but Sakaki certainly saw how their friend's story had affected Chiyo. To hear such painful things about Yomi, Sakaki almost cried at one point. And those things about Kagura, how had she not heard? In any case, she didn't get any sleep over the night.

As Sakaki passed by the front desk, a nurse glanced up and said, "Excuse me, are you Sakaki-san?" Sakaki nodded. "Sorry I don't have your full name. But anyway, there's something that you were supposed to sign . . . Ah here it is."

The nurse handed Sakaki a piece of paper detailing information regarding Chiyo. With Sakaki spending so much time at the hospital, the nurses started coming to her for everything. So she grabbed the paper and signed her name, noticing Chiyo's signature on a separate line. She noticed how shaky the handwriting was, no doubt due to her weak heart.

Handing the paper back to the nurse, Sakaki continued her walk to Chiyo's room. She knocked lightly before entering, and next to Chiyo's bed sat Tomo. Closing the door behind her, Sakaki asked, "How long have you been here?"

"Long enough to sample the food here," Tomo said lightheartedly.

Sakaki smiled. She knew well enough that this place wasn't known for its food. Grabbing her seat across from Tomo, Sakaki glanced at Chiyo. She appeared tired, but not as pale as she was when they left the previous day. The sleep had helped.

"Don't worry. You didn't miss anything," Tomo said as she pulled something out of her pocket. It was a wallet and from the looks of it, she was grabbing at a picture from inside. "I never thought to show you guys this yesterday, but here it is."

Sakaki took the picture and held so both her and Chiyo could see it. The picture was of Yomi, barely recognizable from her high school days. She still had the long hair, but it no longer had the vibrant color. It looked faded, and had thinned. Her face had filled out a little more and she appeared bigger in the photo. What bothered most was her smile. Her lips just barely curved, as if that's all the happier they'd allow. She looked awful.

"When was that taken," Chiyo asked, watching the picture pass as Sakaki handed it back to Tomo.

"Only a couple days before she died."

"Will you tell us the rest of what happened," Chiyo asked, her expectant eyes glued to Tomo. "I want to know about Yomi; and Osaka."

Tomo nodded in a silent understanding. "Well, I ended up cleaning off the table and floor and everything. Yomi spent most of the evening in the bathroom. I don't know what time she went to bed. But the next morning, as I was getting ready for work, I went to check on Yomi . . ."

* * *

><p>I'd already dressed into my uniform so I was good to go. I just wanted to make sure Yomi was okay before I left. I found her in the bathroom. Knocking I called, "Yomi, are you okay in there?"<p>

"T-Tomo," her voice came out as a scratchy, barely recognizable whisper. "I . . . need some help."

Opening the door, I found Yomi by the mirror, clutching her throat. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"I just . . ." she tried to swallow but she only grabbed at her throat in pain. ". . . hospital." Yomi finally managed to spit out.

"You want me to take you there?" She nodded, wincing her eyes as she did.

"Alright, let's go." I said, grabbing her arm. She was already dressed so I assumed she must've got up before me.

I walked Yomi out to the car, clutching her throat and attempting gulps all the way. I sat her down and could see her face had turned a little red as tears dripped down her face. Pulling out of the parking lot, I passed the speed limit onto the highway. "Don't worry Yomi. We'll get you there in no time. You're gonna be alright," I said, but whether the reassurance was aimed at her or me I couldn't tell. Yomi relaxed a little in her seat but continued to clutch her throat.

Leaving a red light in the dust, we pulled into the hospital parking lot in what had to be record time. I shoved my door open and hurried over to Yomi's side. Helping her out, I kept glancing to her face which contorted in pain every few steps. Following her inside a nurse noticed us immediately and came to my aid. "What's wrong with her," she asked.

"I-I don't know. When I checked her, she was like this." I suddenly felt a little panicked as the nurse started pulling Yomi towards the back. I'd been able to keep my cool for this whole time but now that we were here, I just wanted to let loose.

I followed Yomi towards the back when she stopped, catching the nurse off guard. She turned to me and mouthed one word, "Work." Confused, I stood there awkwardly for a moment not knowing how to react. Then she pointed at me and painfully mouthed the word again. "Work."

It clicked. "Me? No I'm not going to work. I'm staying with you."

But Yomi vehemently disagreed. She gave me a slight shove towards the exit and mouthed, "I'm . . . okay . . . Work."

"But . . ." My voice had all but left me. Here Yomi was, in some kind of pain; and she didn't want me around. All I wanted to do was to help, and she wanted me to go to work. I was late as it was; why should I go? The nurse appeared to be at a complete loss as well, for she had stopped trying to pull Yomi along.

"Go . . ."

"Yomi I . . ."

"It's okay," the nurse said, "We'll take good care of her. If it's anything serious, we'll call you."

I glanced from the nervous nurse to Yomi who despite her reddening face and the hand clutched tightly on her throat, seemed decided on the matter. Defeated, I said, "I work at the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Dep . . . I'll stop after work." Yomi seemed to agree on this as she nodded her head.

A shot of pain must've coursed through Yomi as she tensed and winced her eyes shut. The nurse, pulled out of her stupor grabbed Yomi and rushed down the hall and out of sight. I stood there for a minute, watching the double doors close. _Why did Yomi want me to leave? I'm just trying to help_. It took a while before I'd finally convinced my feet to move out of the hospital; and even then, they were confused steps.

I stumbled back to my car and grabbed my cell phone. I made the call to Chief as short as possible. Hanging up, I drove to the station; as slowly as I possibly could. Walking through the doors, fear welled up inside. What if there was a message waiting for me? What if Yomi was in serious trouble? I pushed the thoughts out of my head as Chief saw me and approached. He looked pissed, but after what I'd told him over the phone, I knew he wasn't about to blow up at me.

"Tomo. Take it easy for the day. I wish you would've just called in sick or something but . . ."

"She wanted me to come here," I said flatly. I didn't want to talk about it either. "What do you want me to do today?"

Sighing, he said, "Just . . . go to your desk. There's work there for you."

I nodded and walked past him.

For most of the morning, I watched the phone on my desk, waiting for it to ring. I halfheartedly filled out the paperwork that was supposed to last me the entire day. Chief obviously didn't expect much from me today. Which was fine because I didn't feel like doing much. The phone stayed silent and I glanced around my desk, looking for something to occupy my time. Hidden amongst the stack of papers was a copy of Kagura's autopsy report. I wasn't in the mood for investigating Osaka but maybe reading the report again would jar something.

The report detailed Kagura's body and the condition in which it was found. Terms such as adipocere, and anserina cutis covered the first page. It may as well have been Greek; I couldn't understand it. All I could make out was the osteomyelitis in her leg and the blunt trauma to her head. The next few pages were photographs taken after Chief and I had left the scene. Seeing those pictures was hard, and so I usually skipped them. The final page interested me the most, despite having read it a dozen times. It detailed the cause of death. Though technical jargon pervaded the page, the basic gist of the page went like this. Kagura after being dropped off by a cab driver went into the water to swim. Her leg started acting up because of the osteomyelitis and in her confusion of grabbing at the pained leg, she went under water. Now either Kagura somehow hit her head on a rock or a boat traveling above her cracked her on the head and she lost consciousness. Somehow, part of her had become lodged at some point which explained why I found her at the bottom of the river and not floating in it. And she drowned.

I set aside the report. Glancing at the clock, it was only about noon. Damn, I had the whole afternoon to go yet. I glanced at the phone again. My fingers itched, wanting to call. _I'll just check up. Make sure everything is alright. _Grabbing the receiver, I looked up the number and dialed. A nurse answered and said, "Yes, you have reached Cherish Hospital. How may I help you?"

"My name is Takino Tomo and I'm calling about . . ."

"Ah we have a message for you Takino-san," the nurse interrupted. "It's regarding Mizuhara Koyomi yes?"

"Yes?"

"Don't worry about her. She's fine."

"Thank God," I released. The image of her clutching her throat came to mind and I just shuddered; glad it was over. "What was it? What was wrong with her?"

Calmly, the nurse explained, "I'm sorry but I can't tell you that. Mizuhara-san asked us not to explain it to you. But I'm sure when you talk to her; she'll want to explain everything."

"But why? That doesn't make any sense, I mean . . ." I stopped. Arguing with the staff wasn't going to get me anywhere. Yomi had asked them not to tell so they were just following patient privacy laws. Sighing in frustration, I relented, "Alright. Could I speak to her then?"

"Uh no, she actually went home. Took a cab."

"Oh. Okay . . . thanks." I hung up and glanced at the clock, wondering if I should call. But then it occurred to me. What if she's resting? I mean, the nurse said everything was fine. Why should I worry? Just hearing Yomi's voice would be reassuring. But I decided to wait. It'd be a long day, but at least Yomi would get some peace and quiet; something that I wasn't good with, but Yomi put up with me at least.

Going through some of the papers on my desk, the mundane work slowed the clock to halt at about one-thirty. "Over three hours yet," I sighed and sat back in my chair. Chief had given me more work, but it was barely enough to last me the rest of the day. I had to make it last. Although he did mention something about leaving early, so maybe I'd just rush through the paperwork. Much of the work dealt with old cases and such, which the department must've been considering archival homes for. I went through a few papers and passed by some records of the kid that I'd shot all those years ago. It gave me pause as the incident replayed in my head. Even after all this time, I could still see that kid dying like it was yesterday. The blood, the face, my gunshot, everything. I quickly organized the file, filled out some forms, and sent the thing on its way. I shuddered.

A hand suddenly rested on my shoulder. At first, I thought it was Chief. He had a habit of doing that. But this hand felt different. It was much smaller than Chief's, and colder. Something kept me from turning around as I felt a pair of lips next to my ear. In an all too familiar voice, she said, "Hurry Tomo. It's not too late." With that she let go and I felt her walk past me.

"Osaka," I breathed and finally whirled around. She was nowhere. _She couldn't have gotten far. _I jumped out of the chair and began pushing through the desks and the people. I thought I spotted a hint of a faded red uniform near the stairs. Chasing after it, I shouted, "Wait! Osaka!" I could feel people's gazes on me as I passed but I ignored them. Hurrying down the stairs and onto the first floor, I heard someone hollering after me. The first floor being more packed than the second, I moved much slower through the crowd of officers and civilians as a patch of brown, shoulder length hair disappeared out the exit.

Someone shouted for me again and I ignored them as I ran out the door. "Where is she? She couldn't have gotten far. Where is she," I repeated to myself as I looked past the parking lot and walked up and down the rows of cars, hoping to spot her. "Osaka," I hollered into the street. I began pacing back and forth. "Damn! She couldn't have just disappeared."

"Takino-san, what are doing?" Chief had caught up with me. "What's going on?"

"Did you see someone whisper into my ear," I figured I'd cut right to the chase. Chief shook his head, apparently not knowing what to think.

"Did you see a high school girl anywhere after I jumped out of my seat?"

"No Takino. What is this about?"

"She was here. I'm not making this up," I convinced myself. _But how? How can I prove it? _And then it clicked. "The security cameras! Chief, I need to see the surveillance video of the second floor offices; please."

Chief looked worried. I could tell he'd never seen me like this; well neither had I. "Takino-san, I think all the excitement from this morning has gotten to you. Why don't you go home? Get some rest."

"No. I need to see the surveillance videos."

"Takino . . ."

"Please," I insisted. If she was here, I needed the proof. And if it truly was her; God I don't know what I'd do. Question her maybe.

Chief nodded in defeat. He clearly had little to no idea of what was going on. But he led me up to the third floor where security was and I walked right in as Chief introduced me to the staff there. "Takino-san wants to check the footage from just a few minutes ago; on the second floor."

I sat down next to a short skimpy man who ran the cameras. He merely nodded to me and pointed at a series of live video feed on a big 26 inch, flat screen monitor. "Each monitor is numbered. The numbers correspond to the controls here." He pointed to the keyboard-like touch-screen in front of him. There were buttons numbered one through six, and below were buttons labeled "a" through "o". And below that were buttons similar to a DVD player: play, rewind, fast-forward, pause, and even "print." Basically, one through six switched between the video feed on the monitor for each floor and the alphabetical buttons switched between cameras on said floor. The rest was self explanatory. "Let's see, you want floor two so that's button two." And the man pushed the button with a two under it and it lit up.

I looked at the screen and found some random room so I started flipping through the alphabetical buttons until I came across a camera that had a clear shot of my desk. "F" I think it was; yeah it would be "F." Currently, my desk was empty because I was in the security room; no kidding. Pushing rewind, I watched people move backwards, balls of paper flying out of garbage cans and a bottle magically filling up with water. Suddenly I was back at my desk and I hit play. With no sound, I watched my reflection sort through papers and stop. My reflection jumped out of her chair and out of sight. I hit pause. "No one. No one was there."

"Excuse me?"

"Can you zoom?" The guy nodded and pointed at a small dial. I rewound, paused, and zoomed. Nothing. I repeated and repeated. Nothing. I switched to the first floor cam and did the same thing. But never did I find any sign of Osaka or any other high school girl in the police office. Not once. "Is there any way to . . ." I stopped, wondering what the hell I was going to ask. Yet the man listened for me to finish. "Forget it." I stood up and left. _I did not imagine that. I heard her. I saw her. _

Moving down the stairs, I met Chief. He said, "Go home Takino-san. It's after three. Just go home. And take it easy. You've got vacation time; use it."

I didn't argue. "Okay." That was all I said as I walked down to the second floor, got my things, and left.

The drive home uneventful, I pulled up into the apartment complex and got out. My mind was still racing about Osaka that it wasn't until I reached my apartment that I remembered about Yomi being in the hospital. Entering, I walked through my apartment. No sign of her in the kitchen or the bedroom. She wasn't on the couch. But the bathroom door was closed. Light peeked through the cracks around the door and a bit of steam leaked out as well.

"I'm home Yomi," I hollered, though it probably wasn't necessary. "So what'd you find out? Frog or toad?" I tried to sound upbeat about it, hoping she'd find some humor; but no response. "What should we do for supper," I asked, unloading my things, "is there anything you need to stay away from?"

No answer.

I became a little worried. Yomi usually answered me, no matter what the comment. _Unless she can't talk yet. _The thought suddenly hit me and I wondered if she'd gotten annoyed. So walking up to the door, I called in, "I'm coming in Yomi. Cover up."

I pushed open the door, and fell to my knees. In a tub full of reddish water, sat Yomi. Her body white and head titled back, one arm propped against the wall while the other hung over the edge of the tub; dripping blood. A sickly red razor sat on the floor, just out of her reach. Yomi's hair steadily bobbed up and down in the rippled water.

"Yomi!" I cried out. I ran over to her and hoisted her out of the tub. She was limp and her body heavy as I dragged it out. I rested her on the floor and glanced at her wrists. "Oh my God," I said, seeing the blood slowly drizzle out of the gashes. Reaching over to the cupboard, I snatched two towels and tied them tight around Yomi's wrists; till the bleeding eventually stopped. "Yomi don't do this," I pleaded as I quickly checked for breathing and a pulse. None. CPR, my brain shouted at me and I obeyed. I used mouth to mouth, and then went to work on her chest; and I cycled. Nothing. "Yomi! Don't leave me," I cursed and I tried again. "Damnit!"

Remembering my cell, I pulled it out and dialed. I can't even remember the conversation that passed with the emergency operator. I continued the CPR, calling Yomi's name, hoping with every breath that she'd snap out of it. My brain told me, _she's gone Tomo. Just stop. _ While my heart screamed in my chest, _it's not too late. You can still save her! _My body argued as tears streamed down my face as I pressed my lips over Yomi's for mouth-to-mouth. Sirens wailed outside and suddenly there was thunder climbing up the stairs.

I heard them wandering outside my apartment and I screamed at the top of my lungs, "OVER HERE!" The men burst in and within seconds were in the bathroom. I stepped aside as three of them gathered around her and checked for a pulse and for breathing. Then they attempted the CPR which I had been doing. A stretcher was brought in and I suddenly felt dizzy. Everything was happening so fast. Everything was spinning.

Someone must've led me out at some point cause next thing I knew I was sitting at my kitchen table; crying my eyes out. I uselessly spoke to the blurry man before me. " . . . I mean, I know she's been depressed. But she's been doing better. She had a good day yesterday; a really good day," I pounded my fist against the stained wood in frustration, "Then she had to go and get sick . . ."

A man exited the bathroom and awkwardly approached my table. By this time, my eyes had cleared just enough for me to see that he had been the first medic on Yomi when they hat got here. He took a seat next to me and the sorrow in his eyes was enough. "No," I said instinctively, "She's not. She can't be . . . I need her."

"I am so sorry. There was nothing we could do."

"Why? Why would she? She . . . she . . ." I couldn't finish as I struggled to find some kind of reasoning.

That's when the medic handed me a white envelope with my name on it. I looked up at him, terrified. I didn't want that. I didn't want to touch it. I wanted to yell at him for even showing it to me. But still I asked, "What is that?"

"We found it on the sink."

I didn't take it. The man eventually set the envelope on the table and left with the others.

* * *

><p>Tomo's voice cracked as she finished. She sat there for several seconds and Sakaki wrapped her arms around Tomo. The hug was openly welcomed and Tomo even hugged Sakaki back. Glancing over to Chiyo, Sakaki found her silent, think things over as it were. Sakaki could hear Tomo saying between shivers, "Sorry. I don't know what's come over me. It happened . . . so long ago. I should control myself better."<p>

"No," Sakaki said soothingly, "It hurts. Let it out. I'm just sorry I couldn't have been there." Sakaki glanced over to Chiyo once more and found her bed empty. She worriedly looked over and found Chiyo stumbling towards the bathroom. _It must've upset her as well. _But Sakaki cringed with each step that Chiyo took. She wasn't supposed to be walking around without someone helping her. She knew that, yet she did it anyway. And Sakaki would've gone to help, but Tomo held her firmly in place. Sakaki had to settle with just making sure Chiyo would make it to the bathroom without hurting herself; which somehow she did.

Sakaki rubbed Tomo's back a little and she pulled away, calmed down. "Sorry. It just upsets me," Tomo said, wiping her eyes dry. She asked about Chiyo and Sakaki quickly explained their "young" friend's disappearance. "Every time I think of her, I think that, I should've been there. I should've ignored her when she told me to go to work. I should've taken the day off. I could've stopped her. Maybe she wouldn't have tried it altogether if I'd just . . ."

"Tomo," Sakaki interrupted, "It's not your fault. If she wouldn't have done it that day, she just would've picked another."

"Yeah," Tomo seemingly agreed, but then said, "But then I think about what I had heard at work. What Osaka had said to me. If only I would've listened." Tomo shook her head. "I don't know. I just don't know."

The door to the bathroom swung open and Sakaki immediately stood up along with Tomo to help Chiyo back to her bed. But she immediately held out her hand in protest and said, "I'm fine. I can do this." She staggered for her bed and almost tripped, which got both Sakaki and Tomo at her side. Though she knew that Chiyo didn't like this one bit, Sakaki still insisted that she and Tomo help Chiyo the rest of the way. Chiyo reluctantly agreed.

Once they got Chiyo back in her bed, silence spread throughout the room. Sakaki couldn't bring herself to say anything, and she believed Chiyo to be in the same state. The silence was broken by Tomo rummaging around in her pockets as she pulled out a white envelope. Hesitating, she explained, "I figured you'd want to hear what Yomi said. So I brought it with me." Sakaki sat up in utter speechlessness and she noticed Chiyo to be in a similar state. With the pages out, Tomo cleared her throat and began, "Dear Tomo . . ."


	13. Chapter 13

Well here is another chapter. From this chapter on, we will get to see Osaka in every chapter as the story winds down to an end at Chapter 17. I want to thank the reviewer "slow reader" for leaving a review. I greatly appreciate it. I know I kind of begged for reviews last chapter. That's mainly because this is a different type of story that I've never done before and I know some characters are more OOC than others and I'm curious about what people think. But I won't beg today. If you are able to review, then I would love to hear from you. Otherwise, just enjoy the story. Thank you so much for reading.

**Chapter 13**

"Dear Tomo," Tomo read aloud, her voice quivering, but firm. "I know you're angry. I know you'll hate me for this, but please understand. I couldn't go on living like this. In case you're wondering, yes it does have something to do with why I was at the hospital today. But there's so much more to tell that I don't think I can say it all." Tomo stopped for a moment to clear her voice. Sakaki wanted to tell Tomo that she didn't have to do this; that she and Chiyo could just read it. But she didn't think Tomo would listen. "But maybe if I tell you everything that's happened to me today, then maybe you can understand this a little more . . ."

* * *

><p>4 AM stared me in the face. "God, how long have I been laying here like," I asked myself. I had stayed in the bathroom until late, probably at least midnight. Not that I was throwing up the whole time, but I couldn't face Tomo after what had happened. And when I finally made it to bed, no sleep. Tears rolled down my cheeks. I had to stifle a cry just to keep Tomo from waking. <em>How could I do this to her? After everything Tomo's done for me. What's wrong with me? <em>I hadn't even felt sick when it happened. Everything had just bubbled up and out it came. Even now, I was hungry. My stomach felt empty. Careful not to wake Tomo, I slipped out of bed and fumbled through the apartment and into the kitchen.

I pulled out some surviving leftovers from last night along with a few other items from the cupboards and juggled it all into the living room. Plopping down the couch, I flicked on the TV and started eating. This time at least, everything stayed down. I shoveled in more of the food as I flipped through the channels. Remembering Yuuko, I wondered if he was still with that secretary. _It's not like I had anything to offer anyway. What with how fat I am. _I couldn't help it as I stared down at my stomach, hating every inch of it. Why'd I have to turn out like this? What was it about me that was so disgusting?

I stuffed myself with more chips, and noodles, waiting for my thoughts to drift away; like they usually did when I'd eat. I hated myself for pigging out like this, but I couldn't stop. The food tasted so good, and I hadn't had anything all night. The more I ate, the less I thought about Yuuko. The more I ate, the less I worried about Tomo and what she had to see the previous night. Suddenly eating was all that mattered right now. I couldn't even remember what the TV show I had on was about. It just blended into nothingness as I scooped up more noodles and shoved them into my mouth. Chips and some old meatballs followed and I fell to euphoria.

I shoved my hand in the bag and caught nothing but bag. It was empty. For the first time, I actually looked down at all the open containers and bags to find them either empty or almost. The high I'd experienced during the binge leaving, guilt swept over me. "I've done it again." Catching the clock, I saw it was well after five. "Shit, she'll be getting up soon!" I rushed to put everything away so no signs of my pre-morning snack would be noticed. When I'd finished, I stopped to look down at my stomach. I'd eaten more than usual. It'd made me look fatter. "I'm never gonna lose weight this way," I said to myself, clutching my stomach. _I gotta get rid of it. _The bathroom called to me, and I instinctively took a step towards it. _No, if Tomo hears . . ._ But the bathroom called again, louder. _I have to get rid of it. _My feet inched closer to the door. _I'll make it quick. _

I scampered into the bathroom, closing and locking the door behind me. The toilet in the far corner, I hurried over and flipped open the lid. This was it. I'd made it. The white porcelain running smooth and cool in my hands, I gripped it firmly steadying myself. Remembering to take off my glasses, I set them on the counter and then propped my head over the sparkling bowl. Two fingers caressed my lips and I allowed them entry, feeling them wriggle to the back of my mouth. I shoved them back a little farther, reaching the spot. "Arrguhff," I gagged into my hand, but nothing. I shoved the fingers as far back as I could and my whole body shuddered as I gagged again, but nothing.

Breathing heavily, I said, "This isn't working. I can't get back far enough. I need something . . ." Snatching my toothbrush from the counter, I quickly returned to the toilet and brushed it past my lips and into my mouth. I gagged again, my body lurching towards the toilet. I was close this time and I could feel, just a little further and . . I removed the toothbrush as warm bile rushed up my throat and into the toilet. There it was. I shoved the toothbrush back in and more came swirling out into the bowl. It felt so wonderful; I could practically feel the pounds falling off. The toothbrush back in, I removed it quickly as more rushed out of me and into the toilet.

"Once more," I said between uneven breaths. I shoved the toothbrush back in and going a little farther back to finish it all off, my lungs shot forward and I painfully gagged. The force of the gag had been so great, that I lost my grip on the toothbrush. Reflexively, I tried to swallow but it caught, and I could feel it stuck in my throat. My eyes winced through tears as I gulped again, the toothbrush stuck far out my reach. "Tomo . . . help . . ." but my voice came out only as a whisper. And it hurt to talk. I could feel the toothbrush rubbing up against the walls of my throat with every word.

Flushing the toilet, I hurried to the mirror and opened my mouth. Nothing. I couldn't see it. _What am I supposed to do? I can't tell Tomo what I've been doing. I can't . . ._ My thoughts were interrupted with a knocking on the door. "Yomi, are you okay in there?"

_She's gonna know. The second I open my mouth . . . _But knowing Tomo, she'd check in on me anyways. Not knowing what else to do I said, "T-Tomo," God it hurt to talk, "I . . . need some help."

Bursting through the door, she asked, "What is it? What's wrong?"

She was worried. "I just . . ." What was I supposed to tell her? But I gulped again and a shot of pain blew through me. ". . . hospital," was all I could manage to say.

"You want me to take you there?" She looked scared. I must've been a mess. With the pain in my throat, I couldn't let go of it. I nodded. "Alright, let's go." Tomo grabbed my arm and rushed me to the car. I gulped in fear. Should I tell her? She'd want to know eventually. Dragging me into the car, she helped me in and soon we were speeding down the highway; running every red light we came across. _But I can't tell her now. I can hardly talk. _Tears dripped down my face, not so much from the pain but more from I wanted to cry. _I'm sorry Tomo. I'm so sorry about this. _I wanted to say it so bad, but couldn't.

We arrived at the hospital and Tomo pulled me out of the car as gently as she could. She led me in and a nurse spotted us. "What's wrong with her?"

"I-I don't know. When I checked her, she was like this."

Their conversation swirled in my head. I hardly paid attention to what they were saying. I just wanted this thing out of my throat. I couldn't stand to have it in there any longer. Then suddenly, I heard Tomo's footsteps and I realized the nurse had begun leading me to the back; and Tomo was following. I stopped. She couldn't know. Not like this. "Work," I mouthed. It'd become too painful to talk. I could only mouth the words, feeling the toothbrush rubbing against the walls of my throat. But Tomo didn't get the message, so I pointed at her and repeated, "Work."

"Me? No I'm not going to work. I'm staying with you."

_Damnit Tomo why can't you understand?_ I shoved her with little force as the pain in my throat had drained much of my energy. Desperately, I mouthed, "I'm . . . okay . . . Work."

"But . . ."

"Go . . ."

"Yomi I . . ."

"It's okay," the nurse said, "We'll take good care of her. If it's anything serious, we'll call you."

Tomo painfully resigned. "I work at the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Dep . . . I'll stop after work."

I nodded, thankful that Tomo finally listened. But at the same time, I wanted to cry. She was just trying to help and here I was rejecting her. I gulped in reflex and a shot of pain seared through me. I grabbed my throat and suddenly the nurse was dragging me to a doctor; away from Tomo. I wanted to look back and tell Tomo I'd be alright, but I couldn't. I felt so helpless being dragged through those double doors.

Next thing I knew, some doctor had his hands on my throat, checking for pain; and how far down it was. He began asking question after question and I realized I'd just have to tell him. What a way to say it? But he'd find out anyway. "tooth . . . brush," I mouthed. He didn't catch it so I had to repeat.

"So you've got a toothbrush stuck in your throat," he confirmed. I nodded. "Well, people have swallowed stranger things I guess." But his tone had a bit of an edge to it. I had a feeling he already suspected why the toothbrush was in there.

The doctor briefly explained what they'd be doing. The procedure sounded simple enough, and it was. They didn't even put me out. They injected some anesthetic along with some drugs to relax my throat and jaw. Feeling like I was at a dentist, the doctor grabbed a mirror on a stick and a strange looking tweezers. With the nurse's help, my mouth was filled with fingers, metal, and latex. And with some kind of special camera, they located the toothbrush and pulled it out.

"You were lucky," the doctor said as he pulled off his gloves. "The toothbrush hadn't slid down very far; otherwise the surgery would've been much more complicated." An awkward silence filled the room as he turned and began jotting things down on a clipboard. Then grabbing a small flashlight, he instructed, "open up." Which I did and he aimed the light inside. "Well your throat is irritated. When the anesthetic and drugs wear off, you'll want to treat it like a sore throat. Cough drops, lemon drops, whatever you use."

"Thank you," I managed. My voice sounded rough, but it didn't hurt as much to talk.

"Before you go Mizuhara-san, I want to talk to you about the help that's available out there."

I eyed him skeptically. As I'd thought, he figured out what I had been doing. And he listed off several places and organizations that could help me with my problem. "This isn't something you wanna mess around with," the doctor explained. "Now I know you're probably going to be tired today, so get some rest. But I want to hear from you in a week, telling me you're getting help. Can I count on that?"

As he was standing in front of the door, I knew he wasn't going to let me out until I'd agreed. "Okay. But don't say anything to Tomo. I'll tell her when I get home." I could tell the drugs were starting to wear off as my voice had sounded a bit scratchy and it did sort of feel like a sore throat.

"Of course. Now go on home. And remember our little talk."

I nodded at him and left the hospital, grabbing a taxi back to Tomo's apartment. Fortunately Tomo never had a chance to lock the door so I managed to get right in and pay the cab fare. Locking the door behind me, I fell to the floor. "Now what," I whispered.

I started to cry, but the soreness in my throat turned it to choking. I felt like a cat hacking up a hairball. Getting up and into the bathroom, I checked the medicine cabinet for cough drops. None. But a bottle of cough medicine that treated sore throats rested half full on the bottom shelf. Grabbing it, I downed a little more than two teaspoons worth. My throat instantly softened. Closing the door, I looked into the mirror. _How filthy. Yomi, what have you done to yourself? _Then remembering the toothbrush, I vainly grabbed a clean one and smothered it in toothpaste. With all the commotion, I hadn't the chance to clean up after my purge. Yet opening my mouth, a grimy smile mockingly stared back. I suddenly wanted to cry again as I commenced brushing. _Why aren't they white? I always brush afterwards. _For a while, my teeth had sparkled like ivory; but then, like everything else in my fucking life, they went to hell.

Rinsing and gargling several dozen times just to make sure, I tossed the toothbrush onto the counter. "I'm never doing that again." The memory of the morning replayed right in front of me as I glanced at the toilet.

"Isn't that what you said the last time?" A sudden voice echoed from behind me.

It wasn't Tomo. When I turned, I found the impossible staring directly at me. Osaka/Kasuga Ayumu right there, in front of me. She hadn't aged a day since we graduated from Kiyohiko. She stood there, blocking the door in our old high school uniform, the red one. She wore death on her face; like her whole spirit had been ripped out. For a minute, I was speechless. How many nights had I found Tomo asleep on the couch, or at the table, or at her desk, with papers and pictures all centered on the girl that stood before me? When I finally did manage to speak, all I could say was, "Osaka? Is it really you?"

She nodded. Pain hid deep behind her face. "Yomi. You said the same thing."

"What? What do mean?"

Then Osaka circled me, looking me over and then approached the toilet. "I'm never doing that again." She repeated my words. "The last time you stuck your fingers down your throat and coughed up your lunch, you said the same thing. 'I'm never doing that again.' And the time before that, you said it."

My chest heaved and my stomach turned. Tears welled up in my eyes as I stuttered, "O-Osaka? What do mean? H-How did you know?"

But she ignored me, almost enraged as she continued circling me, her unforgiving eyes judging my every pound. "And when Yuuko dumped you; it was ice cream wasn't it? Almost half a gallon you burped up into the toilet. And what did you say after that? 'I'm never doing that again.' Yomi," Osaka said, her hard voice barely softening, "How many times have you said those words? How many more times are you going to say them?"

"Osaka," I pleaded, barely keep my tears back, "I know what I've been doing is wrong. But look at me. Look at me! I'm nothing. I can't keep a job. I'm probably driving Tomo nuts. I've tried every diet out there and done everything I could to please Yuuko, but I can't compete with girls who hardly break the one hundred pound mark on the scale. If you could see the women he dates . . ."

And Osaka only turned her head away and looked into the mirror. The motion was so sudden I stopped and looked as well. I covered my mouth and gasped, tears finally watering my cheeks. For in the mirror stood neither Osaka nor me, but a twenty-something girl with long jet black hair, an hourglass figure, and breasts at least twice the size of mine. Her petite face mocked me as her lips split into a grin. "Her name is Ibaraki-san," I heard Osaka explain, "And Yuuko has been dating her for two months now."

The girl in the mirror vanished and only my reflection stared back. "Why," I'd finally found my voice back and asked, "Why are you doing this? What's happened to you Osaka? Tomo has . . ."

But Osaka looked at me as if that was the most obvious thing in the world. "Tomo's worried about you. At work, all she thinks about is you. You're nothing but trouble for her."

"Me? But . ."

"I want to help you Yomi. I don't want you to do this anymore." But her voice didn't sound sincere. It hadn't lost that edge which had sustained the whole conversation. And I when I looked at her, she was anxious. I'd remembered what Tomo had told me of Kagura, and the things Osaka had said and done.

But I know I worried Tomo. It killed me to know that I was such a bother to her. She was always waiting on me like a maid and continuously worked at cheering me up. And all I could do was scowl at her. From the knowing look in Osaka's eyes, I'm sure she knew that as well. "How could you possibly help me?"

Osaka directed my attention to the mirror. She walked over beside me and placed an arm around me. Waving her hand over the mirror, my reflection changed to that of a girl I didn't recognize. She had hair and glasses like me, but her body was different. Very different. She carried a flat stomach (no fat what-so-ever) that curved into some dangerous hips. Her thighs smoothed out into long sparkling legs. Filled out breasts and a confident head on her shoulders, she even sported a light tan with no lines. "Who is she," I asked in awe, but covered my mouth in shock as I instantly knew.

The girl in the mirror covered her mouth as well. She had even spoken the same words I had when I had spoken them. That girl in the mirror was me. I turned my head to look at Osaka but she directed my eyes back to the mirror. I watched Osaka through the mirror as she ran her hands up and down my sides. I could feel her cold, spidery fingers scraping over the smooth skin. She traced every curve to ensure that this was real and Osaka said, "This can be you. I can make you this. No diets. No tricks. No more weight gain. I can give you a body that even the richest woman in Japan can't afford."

I stared at my reflection in awe, afraid to look away that the illusion might vanish. Entranced, I dazedly smiled into the mirror and saw the most beautiful smile staring back at me. Surely it wasn't my own. "Really?"

Osaka nodded. "But that's not all." She sounded like a demented game show host when she spoke. Though I had little time to think about Osaka has another figure materialized out of thin air behind me. At first, the figure was hazy. And then I could make out a man. And then . . . "Yuuko," I gasped.

"Yomi, did you do this for me," he asked. Stifling a cry, I nodded. "Listen Yomi, about us; I think I was wrong. Things just haven't been the same without you. If you're still willing, I'd like to reconsider marriage." Again, I nodded. No words would come to my mouth as I watched him smile. It was a smile I hadn't seen in years; when he first met. It was the smile he used to save for me, only me.

And then he vanished. Everything vanished. The body I could have was replaced with the body I'd been stuck with all my life. All that remained were Osaka and myself. And with a small, yet terrible smile, Osaka asked, "So, what do you think?"

I wanted to scream, "Yes! Yes! I'll take it! Give it to me! It's mine!" My lips had the itch to do just that. I felt them quivering, wanting to open up and accept, but something held me back. As hard as my brain tried to push away memories of her, I thought of Kagura. She'd seen Osaka and had had a similar conversation. But she had said no. Something had felt wrong to her. So not wanting to refuse the offer, I instead asked, "What if I don't take it?"

Osaka said not a word, but again directed my attention to the mirror. I shivered with fear. Something told me this wouldn't be nice. Osaka grabbed my hands so that I could see them in my reflection. Then she turned them palm up and I saw blood trickling down from the wrists, onto the palms and running off the tips of my fingers. Violent gashes as the source, I stood lightheaded, feeling the warm liquid oozing down my hands. I felt it on the skin between my fingernails and I got dizzy. For a while, I couldn't bear to look down, but when I felt ready to pass out, I looked and found nothing. No gashes, no blood, my hands weren't even wet. I shuddered. I couldn't speak. It had all felt so real. Osaka's voice echoed through my head, as if she were everywhere at once. "Trade places with me. And you can have that body; and you can have Yuuko. Please."

I turned to Osaka. She was desperate, really desperate. I could see it in her eyes. But I could see something else. Even though she had the physique of her high school self, something even now was eating away at her. Maybe it's what caused her to act like this to me and to Kagura. Maybe she couldn't control it. But with the offer as tempting as it was, I had to force the words out of my mouth. "Something's wrong here. Osaka, I . . . I," and I stopped. Everything she'd shown me tugged at my chest, tore at my heart. Everything inside screamed at me to reconsider. "I can't," I whispered, looking away from her. "I just can't." When I finally did dare a glance, she was gone."

* * *

><p>". . . . And that's when I knew Tomo, that I'd never see you again. I couldn't live with myself for passing up such a golden opportunity to fix everything that was wrong with me. I could've stopped you from worrying. And even now, as I write this, I'm can't stop looking at the razors on the table. I'm sorry Tomo. I love you so much. I never told you that enough. As a friend, you meant more to me than anything else. And I'm sorry I have to do this to you. I can only hope that this letter will help you find whatever it is you're looking for. Goodbye Tomo. I'll miss you. Love Yomi."<p> 


	14. Chapter 14

How about this for quick updates! I've noticed the chapters have been getting a little shorter so I hope it's okay. The story is beginning to wind down with only three chapters ahead. I'm so excited! I'll begin working on the next chapter tonight. Hope to have it done soon. Until then, read, review, and enjoy.

**Chapter 14**

Tomo sat in tears. She placed a hand to her forehead and holding the letter in the other, she cried. Sakaki wanted to comfort her but didn't know how. _I should've been there. Tomo shouldn't have had to suffer alone. _Sakaki glanced over to Chiyo who watched Tomo in silence. She didn't move, she didn't blink, she just watched. Tomo only allowed herself to cry for so long as she somehow forced back the tears and dried her eyes. "I'm sorry," she said, her voice shaky, "I don't usually get like this. It's just that . . . when I think of Yomi . . ."

Sakaki nodded. "I understand. You want her back."

Tomo shook her head. "Not just that. After I'd finished reading the note, I went in and talked with the doctor Yomi'd had. He said she suffered from bulimia. And he described all the symptoms that he'd noticed when she was there." Tomo threw up her hands, exasperated. "The irritated knuckles, the bad teeth, even when she got sick the night before. All were signs that I ignored. And as far as the food goes, at the time I had always been happy that she was eating. I never thought . . ."

"Tomo there's no way you could've known," Sakaki tried. It was hard to see Tomo like this, especially with so much time passing since it all happened. _Had she been holding this in for that long? _

But Tomo continued. She had to get it out. "But all the times I could've cornered her and asked. Could've done something about it. The day she died. I was too busy running around that God Damn police station to even care about Yomi. It was my fault. I was right there and . . ."

"Tomo, please."

"I'm sorry," Tomo said defeated. "It just makes me so mad."

Then, out of the blue, Chiyo rested a hand on Tomo's shoulder which caught her by as much surprise as Sakaki. She met Tomo's eyes and never looked away. "You did what you could for Yomi. And that's all that matters. Osaka . . . she needs help."

"But that's not all," Tomo whispered. Her voice had almost completely left her, so Sakaki had to lean in just to hear. "There's still something I haven't told you." And Sakaki knew exactly what she would say. "After Yomi died, I took things pretty hard. Chief had been nice enough to give me time off to recuperate. But that didn't help. Nothing helped. I became so focused on finding Osaka, determined to make her pay. If it hadn't been for her, Yomi wouldn't have died; and Kagura might still be here. She showed them those things. Everything was her fault."

When Sakaki glanced over to Chiyo, she found Chiyo biting her lip. She wanted to say something, but must've decided against it.

"Within a few years, Chief had fired me for conducting unauthorized investigations, misusing police resources, and the like. Things got bad and I almost lost my apartment. But I was able to find another job." Giving a heavy sigh, Tomo continued, "It wasn't till about ten years or so after Yomi's death that _she _visited me. I'd just gotten home from work . . ."

* * *

><p>Friday. Finally Friday. I'd put in for the weekend off long ago and never thought it would get here. Walking into my apartment felt so refreshing, so . . . imprisoning. Three days trapped in here. I dropped my bags down by the door and flipped on the lights; greeted once again by several bulletin boards overstuffed with all sorts of junk, and piles among piles of newspapers, magazines, and books. Carrying the stack of papers and tabloids over the piles and to my desk, I dropped them down. A framed picture toppled over. Picking it up, I found Yomi staring back at me. I held it for minute, entranced by her image. "I will make her pay. I promise." Setting the picture back in its place, I dropped down into my chair and flicked on a lamp light.<p>

I could only manage to get weekends off once a month; if I was lucky. So I made sure to use every second pursuing _her_. I'd start with the newspapers. I only cared about certain articles. If the words "weeping girl" were used with the word "sighting" in an article name, I'd have a clue. While I hadn't had any direct encounters with Osaka in years, I'd learned that strange articles would appear in the paper shortly after one of her incidents. And so two hours passed, and then three more hours passed as I scanned paper after paper for anything that could've been her. "Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Damn, where is she?" I closed the final paper and threw it down to the floor.

Opening the drawer in my desk, I pulled out the small handgun that I'd been storing for years. My heart beat faster holding the gun. It had remained a secret in that drawer. But I wondered now, as I often did, _can I really do it? If I see her, how hard will it be? _Then turning the gun, I gazed down the barrel. Hard to believe, that a round black hole not much bigger in diameter than my index finger, could cause so much damage. Yet my heart raced faster. "What will it feel like . . ." My thoughts drifted off as I gripped the gun, finger itching slowing over the trigger. The gun pointing at me, I squeezed the trigger. CLICK. My heart pounded in my chest.

Then dropping the gun, I scratched my head. Shooting someone was an idea, far from new to me. But with everything that's happened, that little boy hardly mattered right now. "God this weekend's gonna be such a waste," I finally admitted. Dropping the gun, I snatched the bottle of sake resting on the edge of my desk. Only half full, I knew I'd need some more. Plucking off the cap, I chugged a third of the bottle. The immediate buzz sent a shiver through my body. I studied the gun for a second and then reached into the drawer. Pulling out a clip, I loaded the gun.

"Tomo." A voice from behind called to me.

I knew the voice and whirled around. Ripping the gun from my forehead, I aimed it at Osaka. She stood there, oblivious to the firearm in my grip. "You," I muttered.

"Hello Tomo," she said in that same voice.

"You. You're pretty stupid coming in here," I grimaced and stood from my seat, rage brimming inside. "After what you did to Kagura, after what you did to Yomi!"

"Tomo . . ."

But I wasn't finished. "It's all your fault! How could you do that to your friends," I shouted at her. She just stood there taking it. Looking back at me with that expressionless stare of hers, she'd yet to even mention the gun.

"Tomo, if you really think it'll help, then do it."

I felt something irritating my eye. Maybe it was just the sake, or maybe it was fatigue, but I suddenly couldn't keep my eyes focused on her. Wiping my eyes, I approached Osaka. I stuck the gun up against her chest. She didn't react at all. "I'm sorry Osaka. But . . ." Nothing. There was nothing to say.

Osaka just lowered her head, accepting the consequence. I hesitated, my finger curled around the trigger, refusing to move. I grabbed onto Osaka for support. Being much taller than her, it felt awkward. Still, I couldn't do it. Suddenly, Osaka wrapped a hand around mine and pressed a finger against my finger. BAM! The explosive shot jerked Osaka's body towards me and the surprise caused me to pull that trigger two, three more times. Each time, Osaka's body lurched at me, her tiny figure convulsing. Her body leaned into me, motionless. As I stared past her, I could see the bullet holes in the walls. At close range, they must've gone right through her.

"Better?"

I froze. The body that should've just slumped to the floor when I jumped back, instead stood as if nothing had ever happened. I looked at Osaka's chest, where I'd unloaded four rounds. Nothing. No blood, not even a tear in her uniform; it's like I never shot her. "H-How?" I heard the gun hit the floor.

Her eyes were lost. Osaka couldn't look directly at me. And watching her fidget, I became overwhelmed with emotion. I'd hung out with this girl! And maybe it was because she looked exactly as both Yomi and Kagura described her, or that I knew what she did, but I dropped down in my seat unable to stand. "How could you? Kagura . . . Yomi . . . what," my voice trailed off.

Osaka's saddened gaze continued drifting and she said, "You really want to know?" I nodded. Then, Osaka did something I wasn't expecting. She walked up to me and cupped a hand around my cheek. She rubbed my face and I saw her eyes focused on me. Tears fell.

"Why? Why aren't you . . ."

"Because," Osaka interrupted, already knowing my question, "You're special. When I was alive Tomo, you were the closest to me. I trust you." The way she spoke sent shivers down my spine. It almost sounded like a ghost in the wind.

"T-Then show me," I said hesitantly.

I stood up, and Osaka led me from my desk to the door of my apartment. Despite it only being a short walk, she felt the need to look back and check on me; as if I might get lost along the way. When we reached the door, Osaka stopped and turned to me. Her uncertain look made me wonder if she really thought this would be a good idea. Apparently ignoring it, she said, "Tomo, you're not going to like what you see." I nodded, indicating I was ready.

Osaka swung the door open and we stepped out into what should've been the apartment hallway. But nothing. We stepped out into blackness and when the door closed behind us, it disappeared. For a moment, blackness surrounded us. Thick like fog, you couldn't see your own hand against your face. However, the blackness allowed my other senses to go wild. The place felt damp, and cold; like a basement. Strange smells crept through my nose. The only one I had a name for was sulfur. I could hear noises. Clanking, banging, ripping, chewing, screaming, and a host of sickly noises that I couldn't quite identify. It almost gave the air of a prison.

When the room did finally burst into light, I discovered that my idea hadn't been too far off. Osaka and I stood at one end of a narrow walkway that went straight ahead into forever. Left and right, cell upon cell upon cell, stacked as high as the eye could see, made up the walls. Each cell contained only one inmate. No bed, no toilet, no nothing. The person was the only occupant of the cell. And no door, just cold, iron bars. And as for the walls and the floor of the cell and of the narrow hallway, molding greenish concrete enveloped everything.

I glanced behind me, expecting to see a wall or a door. But no, the walkway just continued in that direction as well. Osaka motioned for me to follow and so I followed behind her, sneaking glances into each cell. Many people had skin so dirty, it was difficult to tell what was skin and what was dirt. Some wore the bare minimum of rags while others wore nothing. Every person acted differently, though none acknowledged the other inmates or us. It was then that I first realized that much of the smell came from the overpowering body odor of these people. The smell crashed into me like freight train and I gagged several times before my body adjusted.

When I said that the inmates acted differently, I meant it. Some cried, others laughed. One man in particular vomited continuously into his cell. The bile had carpeted the floor bloodish brown and seeped past the bars. He clutched his chest, begging it to stop but something always made it out. I looked into another cell, finding a woman with long, greasy brown, snarly hair. Large bugs crawled through it, and every so often she ripped out handfuls of her hair and would stuff them into her mouth. I watched in disgust as she forced it down and you could see clumps catch in the back of her throat. "What is this place," I asked, "Some kind of hell?"

"You could call it that."

With no other answer, I continued to follow Osaka. I glanced in a few more cells with much regret. One man had spread fecal matter all over the walls and he had covered himself in it as well. Another lay screaming, his arm spread out on the floor at some weird angle while rats chewed away. I felt my stomach lurch again.

"Don't look at them," Osaka suddenly said. "They deserve this. It's why they're here."

Eventually, after passing by several more cells, including two which required me to navigate some growing puddles of which I'd rather not know the origin, Osaka stopped. She pointed at a cell on her left. For a while, I feared what would be sitting inside. I wouldn't look. Then, Osaka glanced at me and nodded. This was okay to see. I walked right up to the bars and gazed in. For there in the far corner sat a girl. Her back pressed against the wall, she held her knees, crying. She was terrified, her skin ivory white. Her naked body trembled against the cold cement wall. And then I realized that I recognized her, though her face was hidden by brown hair. It was Osaka. But there was something else in the cell as well. An hourglass. Though old and rusted, black sand continued to travel through its chambers. The "Osaka" in the cell watched every grain fall, horrified.

"H-How," I asked the Osaka standing next to me.

Kneeling down beside me, Osaka gazed longingly into the cell and reached a hand in, as if to touch the other Osaka. But she couldn't possibly reach the girl and her arm simply fell to its side. "I'm cursed Tomo. That's why I'm here. And if I can't find someone to take my place in time, then I'll be like the rest." Osaka then nodded to the other end of the iron bars caging the Ayumu inside. A door. Of all the cells we'd walked by, this one alone had a door. It reminded me of one of those old fashioned jails from the Clint Eastwood movies I'd seen. A small keyhole and fancy hinges. But the more I stared at it, the more wrong it looked. As if some kind of acid was eating away at it, the door melted in tune with the sand in the hourglass.

"But why? Why would ask Kagura and Yomi, your friends . . . Why would you do that to us? Why not someone else?" I felt my voice rising, though I couldn't stop looking at the girl inside the cell.

Osaka's faint voice responded, "Because Tomo, you don't know what its like. I can't eat anything. I can't drink anything. It won't let me sleep." Osaka's voice faltered as she continued, "And everything burns. Always burning and never stopping . . . it hurts so much," she squeaked. Then standing back up to face me, Osaka finished in a firm voice, "Besides, who says I haven't asked anyone else?"

At a loss, I said, "Osaka, how did you end up like this? Where'd this curse come from?"

"That story is for someone else."

And with those words, everything swirled to black. Once again, we were consumed in darkness, but only for a second. The darkness faded and then we were back in my apartment, as if we'd never left. I stood mesmerized, looking around the whole room. The bullet holes were still there. Everything at my desk was just how I had left it. And Osaka, still straight out of high school was still here. And when she spoke, her tone had turned a little desperate. "Tomo, with the curse I was also given a gift. For taking my place, you get anything you want. Please, I can give you anything. I can even bring back Yomi."

"Y-Yomi?"

She nodded and her voice reverted back to the monotone. "She'll be her old self. Won't even know who Yuuko is."

I pondered the thought. Yomi. I'd spent over ten years without her. Just the very thought of seeing her again sent shivers run through my back. Yes, it was tempting. Even after what Osaka had shown me, I still could've accepted. And when Osaka directed my attention to the kitchen, I was ready to accept. For standing in the doorway, was Yomi. She stood there with a small, welcoming smile, as if to say everything was okay. Her eyes comforted, her arms folded, she stood with that confident air about her. I could've cried; I wanted to.

Even knowing better, I still said to her, "Yomi I . . . I'm so sorry." She simply nodded her understanding. I walked over to her, afraid to touch her. But she said not a word. When I reached out to feel her face, she exploded into a puff of smoke. Gone.

"Well," Osaka said, "What do you think? I could offer to bring back the boy you shot, or even bring back Kagura; but that's not what you want. That's not what you care about. You want Yomi."

Anger boiled up inside me. How could she do this to her friends? To me? I turned on her and stormed up to Osaka. I thought about the gun again but decided against wasting the shots. Instead, I slapped her across the face as hard as I could. Osaka stumbled backwards. I couldn't kill her, but I'd make her pay for what she did. Not giving her a chance to recover, I grabbed her by the shirt collar and slugged her in the nose. I wanted so badly to pick her up and do it again. Instead, I restrained myself and watched Osaka stumble back to her feet, blood oozing from the nose. She looked dizzy, but still managed to meet my eye. "Get out of here," I spat. "Don't even think about calling me your friend! I'm not helping you. I don't even know you!"

And with that, Osaka vanished, right before my eyes. She just slipped into the wall, and was gone. It was then that I heard people outside my door, screaming something about gunshots.

* * *

><p>"And that's all there is to it," Tomo finished. She looked more peaceful with everything out like that. She seemed more relaxed. "Since then, I've been trying to find others who Osaka visited and hear their stories."<p>

"And . . ." Sakaki prodded.

"And there's been quite a few," Tomo answered, nodding to Sakaki. "I don't know for sure, but more than you think."

"Anyone else we know," Chiyo hesitantly asked her eyes boring into Tomo.

At first, Sakaki didn't think Tomo would answer, for she looked a little disturbed by the thought. But then finally, she said, "Yes. But there's not much to tell for either one of them. Yukari-sensei apparently had a drink-drive session that ended in the death of a couple of her students. But I couldn't get anything out of her when I saw her. And the other," And Tomo turned to Sakaki. "The other was Kaorin. I never did find her, but Chihiro told me that it had something to do with you."

Sakaki gulped. "Me?"

Tomo nodded. "Any idea what that could mean?"

Sakaki shook her head. "No. I don't think I talked to either of them after high school."

Tomo shrugged. "Anyways, then I heard Chiyo was in the hospital and decided to visit her. And that's it. That's the end." Silence encased the room.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

For a long time, Tomo stayed silent. Her story finished, she simply allowed everything to sink in. "I never saw her after that. Never heard her voice, never dreamed about her. Nothing." Tomo fidgeted with the papers still dangling in her hands. "But I searched. I spent years trying to find her. I wanted to understand what happened. And I still wanted her to pay for what she did . . ."

Tomo," Chiyo sounded annoyed. The sternness in her voice startled both Sakaki and Tomo. "I don't think its Osaka's fault."

Tomo looked as though she'd just been slapped in the face. Sakaki expected her to yell at Chiyo for even suggesting such a thing. But somehow, Tomo remained seated, the agitation in her voice, "How can you say that?"

"Because she's visited me more than you," Chiyo explained. Sakaki merely listened as Chiyo briefly described a few of the visits she'd had in college; instances that Sakaki had already read about in Chiyo's journals. This conversation wasn't really meant for Sakaki in the first place. She'd only happened upon the journals. She felt like an intruder, but no one suggested that she leave. And so Sakaki sat quietly as Chiyo detailed the day she found Osaka in the bathtub, the day she forced Osaka to eat, and the day Osaka left her. "Couldn't you see it in her," Chiyo asked, "She doesn't want that curse. She never did. I tried so hard to help her. But I failed."

Confused, Tomo said, "But Chiyo, if she hadn't visited Yomi or Kagura . . ."

"They would've died anyway. Don't ask me how I know, but I do. Osaka wanted to help them." Tomo tried to protest but Chiyo cut her off. "Maybe it was because of the pain she was in, but she . . ." and Chiyo trailed off, unsure of what to say.

"Why'd she save you then," Sakaki blurted. She covered her mouth immediately after say the words; wishing she could take them back. She knew the affect they'd have on Tomo.

"What?"

"I'm sorry I," but Sakaki stopped when she caught Chiyo's gaze. It wasn't an angry stare or annoyed. Rather it was a forgiving stare as if Chiyo were telling her, "It's okay."

But saying not a word to Sakaki, Chiyo focused her attention on the expectant Tomo and said, "Not only did she visit me regularly, she also saved my life; a couple times."

Sakaki glanced at Tomo, seeing the look of disbelief on her face. Her mouth hung slightly open as Chiyo explained about the incident with the back road. Tomo just shook her head at the story. And Chiyo briefly touched upon the incident of when she first sat under some faulty wiring and left before it broke through. By this time, Tomo had buried her face in her hands. She took it pretty hard.

Chiyo noticed this quickly. "I'm sorry Tomo. I . . ."

"Why you," Tomo snapped. "If she could save your life, why not Yomi or Kagura? What's so special about you?"

Chiyo eyed the floor. "I don't know. She never talked about Yomi or Kagura with me."

"Was that it?" Chiyo looked up in confusion. Tomo, a little calmer repeated, "Was that it? Did she help you after that?"

"Yes. Once more that I can remember. It was when I worked at the Tokyo District Hospital. They'd placed me in the Mental Ward for the day. I'd never worked in that section before, but I knew there were a few patients that required extra precautions when dealing with . . ."

* * *

><p>I'd just finished seeing a little girl with a mild case of strep. I'd written out a prescription for her and sent her and her mom on their way. So finishing up some paperwork, I was about to head down to file it when Sazuhara-sensei walked into the room. He was one of the head doctors and more or less my boss. As nice of a guy as he could be, he was strict. Hospitals needed to be strict, but sometimes Sazuhara-sensei went a little overboard.<p>

He stood in the doorway, his enormous figure looming over me. "Mihama-sensei?"

"Yes?"

"I need you down in the Mental Ward for a few hours. One of the doctors down there fell and we just need someone to fill in until we get a more permanent replacement." Sazuhara-sensei didn't mince words; always straight to the point.

I nodded, unsure of whether or not I really wanted to do this. The occasional tale would sometimes drift from the ward up to the general staff. It was always hard to tell exaggeration from fact. Still, it was my job and so I gathered up my things and walked down to the elevator. A couple basement floors were dedicated to the ward. I'd never been down there before so when the elevator doors opened, I was surprised by what I saw.

Movies always depicted these kinds of sections as smelly, disgusting places to work. And being in the basement, I guess I expected a damper atmosphere. But I was wrong. It looked like any other floor in the hospital. Sparkling floors, the occasional nurse moving equipment from one room to the next. As I walked through the hallway, I noticed that the only immediate difference was that the patients' rooms had security locks on them. They couldn't just get up and leave.

Eventually locating the main desk, I approached the secretary there and explained myself. "Don't worry Mihama-sensei. This place isn't nearly as scary as some make it sound."

I chuckled in relief. The secretary probably thought I'd gone crazy, but just hearing those words from her eased my anxiety about this temporary assignment. "So where do you want me?"

"Well, I think they'll want you down in the service hall. You'll really just be helping the doctors administer medication to the patients. Believe me, it's nothing to write home about." The nurse smiled and pointed me in the right direction. After thanking her, I walked down the hallway towards my assignment.

Grabbing peaks down the different hallways that I passed, I found many rooms to be just like the ones up above. Rooms for check-ups, surgeries, and even recovery rooms; I'd also ran into a few visitors along the way. Unfortunately some were lost and I could only give them the general direction of the main desk. But I eventually located the service hall and found a rather skinny doctor sporting thick bifocals inspecting a clipboard. When I approached him, he didn't look at me in acknowledgment but he said, "You must be the replacement. I was hoping they'd get me one of the doctors but I guess you'll have to do for now."

"So, what do want me to do?" I couldn't really think of anything else to say? How do you respond to something like that?"

"Well," the doctor said, finally sizing me up, "I'm gonna have you pass out medication to some of the patents that I care for. A simple job really, but let me explain."

The explanation was quite simple. I'd get a key which actually unlocked most of the patient's cells, but wasn't allowed to use it unless there was a medical emergency. Each cell had a tray which could slide in and out of the door. I'd place the medication in the tray, slide it in, and knock on the door. Easy enough. The doctor showed me two lists, arranged by sections; in case I wanted to pick a side. I'd also use it to help determine who gets what. At first, it made no difference to me, but then on one list I found the name, Kasuga, and immediately asked for that section.

"Alright, just take your time and just make note of any strange or suspicious behavior that you might notice."

_Define strange behavior. _I thought to myself. The doctor never bothered telling me the conditions of the patients I was about to walk among. But it must not have been important because after that, he disappeared through a door and I had to take another. I glanced down the hallway I now stood in, doors on both sides. I pocketed the key and checked the chart again. My eyes instantly found the name, Kasuga. _Could it be?_

Counting out the first assortment of pills, I checked my chart and stopped at the first door. The man inside only paced back and forth as if he were lost. Depositing the medication in the tray, I slid it in and knocked on the door. He didn't respond. He only continued to pace. _I guess he'll take it when he's ready. _Moving to the next cell, I did the same. And as I moved from cell to cell, most patients seemed fairly content with where they were. Some slept as I knocked on the door and only raised a hand in recognition. Others appeared quite interested in the "new girl." Each door meant one step closer to the Kasuga, whoever it was.

When I'd finally reached the cell, I checked the chart and discovered she didn't receive any medication at all. Peering through window, I saw her. Sitting on the bed, she stared off into space. Hesitating, I knocked on the door, wondering if she'd acknowledge me. But nothing. "Osaka," I said, wondering how well she could hear me. "It's me, Chiyo." Nothing. _What's happened to her? _

My mind blanked as I watched her. She hadn't grown an inch in years. She still looked the same as the last time I'd seen her, exactly how I'd first seen her. Fumbling the key out of my pocket, I debated on whether or not I should unlock the door. Just like before, Osaka looked to be so fragile; like porcelain. _I could say she had blacked out. _The idea of her attacking me never crossed my mind as I unlocked the door and entered. Osaka ignored me. Slowly I approached her, stunned with awe. Taking a seat next to her, I wrapped an arm around her shoulder and said, "Osaka, are you okay?"

No response.

"You know who I am don't you?"

Osaka said nothing, but pulled something out of her pocket; a piece of folded paper. It was a picture of all of us. It took me a moment to remember where she'd got it from. "So you do remember," was all I could say.

"Chiyo," her voice came out as a whimper, "I'm sorry."

"For what," I asked. And then the door closed. The bang was so sudden it caused me to jump and I hurried over, but there was no keyhole on this side. There wasn't even a doorknob or anything. I glanced out the small window and only saw someone running down the hall.

For a moment, I panicked. Did someone get out? But how? And what about me? How would I get out? I turned back to Osaka, who didn't even attempt to look at me. I wondered if she'd had anything to do with this. I remembered well what had all happened in college. The journals I kept, I must've reread them at least a hundred times. There was something abnormal about Osaka. Not something that medical science could comprehend, but something. "Osaka," I said, and waited for her to look at me. "Are you doing this?" She nodded. "Why?"

She hesitated. "I don't want you getting hurt."

I towered over her. Technically speaking, she's supposed to be four years older than me. But anyone who'd have heard that notion probably would've locked me away as well. And though I'd read dozens of books since college to figure out what might be plaguing Osaka, I've never found anything to even acknowledge whatever it is that she has. "Osaka," I finally said, as I took my seat next to her, "we're at a hospital. It's okay."

She leaned in to me, and for a moment, I thought she might fall asleep. Osaka still looked tired, as if she hadn't slept in years. Then, she said almost begging, "Please don't leave me."

And the door burst open, yet it did not scare me. I didn't bother checking Osaka. I knew she was gone. I only listened with half interest as the doctor rushed me with questions about if I was alright, and if "he" hurt me. Apparently someone had escaped and attacked someone. I couldn't even say what their condition was. But eventually I looked down at my chart, and found the room that had previously been labeled "Kasuga" to now be empty. No lines or Xs, just blank. And somehow it didn't surprise me. There never was a Kasuga here.

* * *

><p>". . . I later found out that a doctor had been placed in critical condition. He survived. But things could've been a lot worse." Chiyo explained.<p>

"So Osaka tricked you into an empty room to keep you from getting attacked?" Tomo asked, baffled. Chiyo nodded. Getting up in frustration, Tomo began pacing back and forth. "She said she didn't want you to get hurt," though Tomo was clearly upset, her voice remained calm. "Did she ever tell you why? I mean, if she could keep you from getting hurt, why not Yomi or Kagura? Or what about her own parents?"

"I don't know," Chiyo resigned, "Osaka would appear to me at random like that. After college, she'd never appear for very long. But always in the same way."

"In what way," Sakaki asked.

"Always pale, always sad; like she couldn't take it any longer."

"You said she spoke to you," Tomo said, stopping, "like she spoke to the others. If Osaka didn't want you to get hurt, why would she talk to you like that?"

Chiyo was silent for a long time. She appeared to be choosing her words very carefully. Then, finally she said, "Because even when she spoke to me, it was different from the others." Chiyo glanced at Sakaki, almost pitying her. "I'm sorry Sakaki. I know you've been worried about me." Chiyo released a small, sarcastic chuckle. "I haven't been a very good friend have I?"

"No, that's not true," Sakaki interjected, though softly.

"I know you've been wondering what happened eight years ago, when I was in America. Well, there's not much to say, but you can probably guess who it involves. I was visiting Kristina. I hadn't seen her in years." Then remembering Tomo, Chiyo added, "Kristina and I went to college together." Tomo simply nodded. "Anyways, we'd just got done with some shopping and Kristina had pulled into a gas station . . ."

* * *

><p>It felt great hanging out with Kristina again. As old as she was, she hardly showed her age. Anyone who didn't know her would've sworn her to be under fifty. What with the way her hair sparkled under the roof of the gas station. "So how long have you been married to Dean?"<p>

"Almost thirty years," Kristina said, matter-of-factly.

I shook my head. I couldn't believe it. While we waited for the gas tank to fill, we watched the stars and I asked her all about her married life, her two kids, and her job. She asked me about much of the same; though I had no married life to speak of. I glanced around the scenery that the gas station provided. "It sure is something, isn't it?"

Kristina looked over to me in mild confusion. "What is?"

"I don't know. Everything I guess. I haven't been to America in years." Kristina chuckled at that. Maybe I just felt nostalgic. But standing outside in the night sky with her; I missed these times more than I realized.

"Say Chiyo," Kristina asked, "Did you ever get a hold of your friends?"

Sadly, I shook my head. "No, I never did. But I have stayed in touch with Sakaki."

Kristina looked ready to argue, but she held it in. _Some things never change I guess. _"It happens," she said, disappointed, "No one's around you forever. But at least you have Sakaki."

I nodded and turned to Kristina to add to that, but a loud "click" stifled my response as Kristina walked over to see her car had finished filling. She walked towards the gas station itself and asked, "Wanna come in?"

"No," I answered, "After spending all day in and out of stores, it's kind of nice to just relax." Kristina only nodded at that and walked off into the gas station.

After she disappeared, I thought about what she'd said. "No one's around you forever," I repeated. At work, I only ever hung around those that needed treatment; and that was brief. Not to mention, the doctors I worked with varied on a day by day basis. But that was work. And with my friends, I never really tried to contact them. I kind of left it up to Sakaki, but she couldn't because of her responsibilities. _"Any action is better than no action." _My father's words circled my head. That phrase defined his business. It's what drove him. Whether big or small, he was always the one to take action. And somewhere along the way, I stopped taking action.

I watched the moon for a few minutes, noticing Kristina stuck in line. But when I turned my head back to the sky, the moon had vanished. Covered in a layer of fog which I hadn't seen before, the moon had retreated into the white blanket. The fog moved quickly, though no wind pushed it. In a matter of seconds, I'd lost sight of the station and held onto the car so I wouldn't get lost. "What's going on? Can fog move in like this?"

Stepping away from the car, I walked towards the gas station; wondering just how far I'd have to go before I could see Kristina. Several paces later, the fog began to disperse. As fast as it had snuck up, it now pulled away. Except, the fog had pulled the gas station with it. I stood in an open field; no car, no gas pumps, no Kristina. Taking a few cautious steps, I banged my foot against something hard, like rock. Kneeling down, my mouth dropped as I stared into the face of a gravestone. Some name I didn't recognize, the words "Rest In Peace," and dates jumbled across the front. And with a second glance, I discovered this open field littered with gravestones. As far as the eye could see, hundreds of graves were planted everywhere in the field. Different sizes, different shapes, and even different colors. Some bore names, others only years, and still others were blank. But the years on the graves were all over the place. One I found with the years marked "1905 – 1937" while the one next to it said "1672 – 1708." There were English letters, Japanese kanji, Korean, Roman, Egyptian, Greek, Hebrew, and a host of others I did not recognize. "Where am I?"

"It's a graveyard," said a voice from behind.

I turned. "Osaka, what are . . ."

"Really it's _the _graveyard. Everyone who was ever alive is buried here. Come and see." I watched her walk up to me, her eighteen year old figure drifting past the stone monuments; her uniform swaying with each step. She grabbed my hand with a soft firmness and pulled me deeper into the graveyard. "Look," she pointed, "that's where Nichiren is buried. And over there is Toshiro Mifune." I saw each grave she pointed out, her finger never stopping. "And that one is Walter Camp's. John Wilkes Booth, Ho Chi Minh, and Maria Edgeworth."

The list went on and on. American presidents, Japanese prime ministers, athletes, actors, authors, you name it and she pointed at one. I felt lost, not only in the obvious sense but also with Osaka. She's never acted like this before. I haven't seen her this . . . wound up? . . . since high school. I suddenly felt uncomfortable. This was a place that I should not be seeing. I tugged my hand away from Osaka and she stopped. She didn't turn back to me, she just stopped. "Why are you doing this," I asked, "This isn't the Osaka I know."

Without turning she said flatly, "You've had it pretty good as a doctor. Fixing up scrapes and bruises," her voice quivered as she continued, "a few dozen broken bones, and hundreds of stitches. But . . ." she trailed off.

I didn't know how to respond. Was she angry at me? Why was she showing me this? How was she showing me? Biting my lip, I asked, "What's wrong Osaka?"

Osaka turned on me. Her face grimaced with anger, yet she could've cried. She stared me down for a number of seconds before the trembling disappeared and she took on the blank, despairing stare that I'd sadly grown so accustomed to. "Because," her voice faint, "I want to help you."

My legs shook, and I had to force them to walk up to Osaka. I placed a hand on her shoulder to comfort her and realized I couldn't think of anything to say to her. I stood dumbfounded, but she ignored me and scanned the graves. Grabbing my hand, she jerked me over to a nearby grave. Osaka said nothing, but merely pointed at it. I knelt down and read it, covering my mouth in shock. "Yazumura Miyaki," I whispered. I ran my fingers over the dates, September 23, 2012 to April 9, 2033. "I don't believe it," I said into my fist. "O-Osaka, how did you . . ."

"What," she said as if she didn't know.

That night suddenly clear in head, I rambled on, "I was the only nurse on call that night. They wheeled her into the emergency room. Multiple stab wounds, she was in bad shape. And it was out my field. I hadn't studied to be a surgeon. But she required immediate surgery." Osaka watched my rant. I couldn't tell what she was thinking, as usual. "I did what I could. But . . . she was too . . . it was too late. There was nothing I could do." I finished, staring longingly at the grave.

I felt Osaka's hand on my shoulder. I glanced up at her. "It's not too late to save her."

I was about to ask what she meant when the ground shifted under my feet. I jumped back as a grotesque hand popped up through the dirt. Barely recognizable, Miyaki climbed out of her grave. Dirt clung to her knotty hair while bugs crawled in and out of her. Torn shambles of clothes and skin flaking off, she saw nothing with her one remaining eye as she stumbled about. The smell was awful. I felt horrified, and sick. My stomach turned over and over, bringing me close to throwing up. Somehow, I managed to say, "Osaka?"

But Osaka didn't respond. She stepped away from me and towards the creature that used to be a girl. Osaka walked right next to the thing and placed a hand on its face. Upon her touch the skin grew back along with the clothes. The thing's hair filled out and color returned to its face. The missing eyeball popped back into place and the bugs dropped off, dead. The chest grew out and the legs grew with muscle. When Osaka finally let go, I stared into the eyes of Miyaki. She looked normal, human, she looked alive. "Just like new," Osaka said.

"How did you . . ." I began, but then the ground moved again. Not next to me or across from me, but everywhere. I looked around as those things started climbing out of graves from all over. I felt as though I were in some kind of zombie movie.

Osaka's voice rang through my ears as I couldn't remove my eyes from the horrid sight. "You became a nurse to help people. To save lives. Now look at all the people who couldn't be saved. Cancer, heart disease, diabetes, and thousands more." Osaka's arm suddenly stuck out, pointing at one of the "zombies" who had a big chunk of his skull missing. "But that one, died because the doctor operated on the wrong side of his brain." Her finger flung over to the remains of an older woman. "And as for her, a misdiagnosis allowed the cancer in her body to spread." I wanted her to stop, but I couldn't find the voice to do so. Tears welled up as I listened to Osaka continue, finally pointing to a young boy. ". . . And he survived a car accident. But because of minimal brain activity, doctors declared him dead . . . and harvested his organs for donation." I shuddered when I felt her lips touch my ear. "He felt everything."

I dropped to ground, gagging. My stomach couldn't take it. And through the tears, I painfully hurled out my lunch. I couldn't keep myself together and began crying. I cried for everyone Osaka had pointed out, for Miyaki. But most of all, I cried out of fear. What did she bring me here for? I couldn't understand what had come over Osaka. But as I hugged myself, I felt her penetrating gaze. Eventually, I regained control but was still unable to fully stand. So staying on my knees, I asked, "Why are you showing me this?"

"Because you can stop this. You can cure every person that rolls into your hospital. No mistakes, no misdiagnosis, nothing will stand in your way. And I can help you do it."

"But . . . this is too much. How can you do something like this?"

"Because, I want to help you."

"But Osaka," I said, shaking my head. "This isn't right. It's too much power. Where did you get it?" As crazy as everything sounded, I believed that Osaka could give this to me. And it was perfect. Imagining any doctor with the ability to cure a patient no matter what the illness, made me envious. How could I refuse?

Osaka only said, "Please Chiyo, let me help you." I couldn't speak. I didn't know what to say. In fact, I couldn't give any kind of answer. I couldn't do anything. When Osaka got no response from me, I felt her kneel down next to me and she gently rubbed my head. Her fingers were as cold as they always were. I looked into her desperate eyes and she pleaded, "Please Chiyo, I don't want you to die."

My senses froze at the words. Osaka was directing my attention to the tombstone I'd been next to. I didn't want to look, yet my curious eyes followed Osaka's direction and next to me in cold stone letters was the name, Mihama Chiyo. No dates, no epitaphs, just my name. I backed away instinctively. The dirt shifted and I moved to get away. A hand shot up out of the ground and grabbed my leg. Too terrified to look away, I watched a familiar face crawl out of the ground. She was missing skin, missing hair. One of her nostrils had been eaten away, now holding a small family of beetles. She approached me with fluid running down her left leg. And with spidery white hair, she was me.

My legs buckled and I couldn't stand. I felt the thing climbing on top of me. A deep bubbly utterance flowed up through the remains of her throat and she managed, "Help me." I don't know if I cracked my head on a gravestone or what, but my vision blurred. I got real dizzy and blacked out.

I awoke to the sound of my name. When I opened my eyes, I was surrounded by people. I recognized Kristina, but the rest were strangers. I was on the cement, next to her car. Kristina just kept crying out, "Chiyo, are you okay? What happened? We called an ambulance." I blacked out again.

* * *

><p>". . . After that, I never saw her again. When she first visited me in college, I knew something was wrong with her. I just wish I knew how to help her." Then glancing at Tomo, Chiyo said, "With what you said Tomo, I can understand her a little more. But why Osaka accepted such a curse, I wish I knew."<p>

"But she shouldn't have asked any of us," Tomo whispered, "She was our friend."

"I don't know Tomo," Chiyo said, "I just don't know."

Tomo sat in silence for a while, thinking about everything that had transpired. No one could break the silence. Sakaki had nothing to say as she felt like an outsider on all of this. And there was nothing Chiyo could say that would comfort her. Eventually, Tomo stood up and said, "Thank you Chiyo. For sharing what you did. I-I have to go."

"Wait," Sakaki called out. She didn't know if Tomo would stop or not. But when Tomo did, Sakaki said, "If you'd like, I could take you to Chiyo's mansion, show you some of her things from college; if you wanted to know more." Then realizing what she just said, Sakaki glanced back at Chiyo who nodded her permission. ". . . Maybe it'd help you understand her more."

"I'd like that." Was all Tomo said.

Then getting up, Sakaki walked over to Tomo's side and said to Chiyo, "Is it all right if we leave now? Do you need anything?"

Chiyo shook her head, "No. I'll be fine. If I need something, I'll call the nurse."

Sakaki nodded and led Tomo out, stumbling over her leg. It still bothered her after the surgery. Before they left, Tomo turned to Chiyo and said, "Don't be walking round too much," and she forced an apologetic smile.

Chiyo nodded and then Sakaki and Tomo were gone. Laying back in bed, Chiyo thought about everything she'd heard. It'd been eight years since she last saw Osaka. _I just hope it's not too late. _Rolling over, Chiyo closed her eyes, deciding she'd get some sleep. But when sleep wouldn't come, she shifted in the bed to watch TV. And there was Osaka, standing right next to her.


	16. Chapter 16

Well here we are. The end is almost upon us. Chapter 17 will end the story and like Chapter 16, it may not be quite as long as the others. One thing that is interesting to note, in the book Melmoth the Wanderer, Melmoth was given 150 years to rid himself of the curse. Whereas in this story, Osaka was given only 50 years to do so. I chose a shorter time so Osaka could interact with her friends. Which as a reminder, the current year is 2052, for those who have forgotten (I don't blame you). And hopefully it hasn't been too difficult following along. So please enjoy the chapter and if you have the time, I would love to hear what you think of the story. Don't be shy. And thank you for reading.

**Chapter 16**

Standing next to the bed as if she'd been there for hours, Osaka hardly moved. She'd curl her lips and open her mouth, then hesitate and close it back up. Chiyo watched this uncomfortable movement of hers for some time. Deciding that Osaka wasn't going to say anything, Chiyo said, "How long have you been here?"

Osaka's demeanor didn't change, but she answered, "Since Tomo arrived."

Osaka pulled out a piece of paper from her pocket and stared a long time at it. The crumpled paper zigzagged with folds, wrinkles, and tears. But Chiyo remembered it well. It was that copy of the picture she used to have of all the gang. She'd given it to Osaka back when she was in college. _So she still has it. _Chiyo couldn't imagine how important that thing must've been for Osaka. But then, Osaka did something she didn't expect. Osaka handed Chiyo the picture and said, "You can have this back, Chiyo. I don't need it anymore."

Chiyo held the paper as if it would turn to dust any second. She felt confused. "What does this mean Osaka? Are you . . ."

"My time is nearly up," Osaka interrupted. She placed a cold hand on Chiyo's forehead and rubbed it like a small puppy. Osaka looked longingly at Chiyo, as if she'd never see her again. "I'm sorry Chiyo. I couldn't control it. I . . ."

But Chiyo moved her head away from Osaka's hand. Osaka, mildly surprised, withdrew her hand and lowered her gaze in shame. Chiyo, however, couldn't stop looking at her. "Why," Chiyo said, a slight hint of anger in voice, "Why would you do such a thing? Selling your soul . . . of all the stupid things . . ."

"Please Chiyo," Osaka's voice shivered.

"Ayumu," Chiyo said, determined to get her friend's attention.

"Please don't call me that. I don't deserve it."

"Tell me."

Osaka said nothing, but nodded. Grabbing the TV remote, she flicked on the television to one of the news stations. Some woman sat behind the desk. It resembled every other news station out there, except for one difference. The date at the bottom of the screen was off, way off. It said June 4, 2002. _But that was fifty years ago. _Chiyo thought, when suddenly it clicked.

". . . And welcome back," the reporter said, in the exact same tone as every other reporter, "For those of you just tuning in; Kiyohiko High School has caught fire. It all happened during a post graduation celebration for this year's graduating class. We don't have any word on how many people were in the building, but at least two graduates are still unaccounted for . . ."

Osaka flipped the channel. The station changed to another news station. The date at the bottom the same, the reporter this time a man said, ". . . Mihama Chiyo, a child prodigy, was found unconscious in one of the many classrooms of the school. Miraculously, firefighters were able to pull her out with only minor injuries. No official words yet on the other missing graduate . . ."

Osaka again flipped the channel. This time, the news station sported the date of June 5, 2002. A man on scene, at the site of the fire, stood holding a mic. "Well the flames are out, and all that remains of this once beautiful and prestigious school, is now a mound of smoldering ash. And among the wreckage we are told, the remains of the other missing graduate have been found. Kasuga Ayumu, whose remains were discovered just hours ago . . ." And Osaka turned the television off.

Chiyo glanced from the TV to Osaka. "I don't understand."

Osaka dropped the remote onto the stand next to Chiyo's bed. She didn't seem to care where it landed. "I was near the room where it all started. Unfortunately, I had fallen asleep. I woke up, alone. Smoke was everywhere. In my confusion, I stumbled through classroom after classroom, just trying to find a way out . . ."

* * *

><p>I rushed from door to door, trying the knobs. Nothing. Locked and locked and hot and hot. Smoke filled my nostrils. I could hardly breathe and the sound of crackling fire was everywhere. I ran down one hallway and then back up another. Whichever direction I would go, I'd get cut off by fallen beams, walls of fire, or just plain dead ends. The few doors that I had managed to open only breathed hot, black smoke onto me.<p>

"There's gotta be a way out," I said, and repeated it countless times; just to keep calm. But that proved difficult as each breath I took filled my lungs with the black clouds. Eventually, I stumbled up against a door. I had to stop and catch my breath, though there was no breath to catch. And I could no longer run from the fire. _What floor am I even on? _I couldn't remember anymore. Fumbling over the door, I prayed this thing wouldn't be locked. A light creaking and the door slid right open. I hurried inside and slammed it shut.

"Aw shoot," I said, quickly scanning the room. Small embers flickered here and there while the other door to the classroom was blocked by broken beams and other debris. But the harder I looked, the stranger some of the debris turned out to be. I could've sworn there was a pair of shoes lying underneath. And approaching them, I saw a set of legs attached, which disappeared beneath the rubble. "Oh my God," I gasped and ran over to dig the person out. I flung scraps of wood one way, and plaster in another. My fingers splintered after only a few shovelfuls, but I continued the dig until at last a face could be seen.

"Chiyo? Hey are you alright?"

No response.

My mind raced. "What are you doing here? It's kind of a silly place to take a nap." A large bean lay broken across her chest, pinning her down. "Come on get up, we gotta get out of here." I tried lifting the beam, but no use. Not only was it heavy, but it lay tangled in a mess of wood and other black junk. Then I noticed the pillow of blood she had her head on. And I couldn't stop the tears. I maneuvered around the beam and over to Chiyo. Lifting her head off the floor, I laid her in my lap. "Chiyo," I said, cradling her, "Don't go. You're too smart to die. I'm the bonkura, remember?"

I brushed the bangs out her face. She felt nothing. "Chiyo," I called, "What should I do?" I cried. And soon, I fell asleep; that or I passed out. But it wasn't for very long, because I woke up in the same room with Chiyo still in my lap. Only the smoke had grown thicker and the fire had roared into the room. I realized there'd be no escape. I couldn't make a run for it even if I wanted to. And I didn't. I couldn't leave Chiyo. I closed my eyes. It was so hot in the room. It felt as though my skin were melting. I drowned in sweat and could feel it soaking through my clothes. And I was scared. Scared to die, scared I'd lose Chiyo, just scared.

Then a voice called my name. "Ayumu. Ayumu open your eyes."

I did and in front of me stood a man. He wore a black suit and sported a strange looking blue tie. Clean shaven and tall with short stubby black hair, he ignored the flames as they engulfed the room. Rather, he wore a strange smile on his face as he stared at me. "What are you doing here?"

"Dying."

"Why? Run out the door. You can make it. The fire has died down some in the hallway."

I clutched Chiyo and shook my head. "I can't leave her."

"But she's dead. Just save yourself."

Again, I shook my head.

"Very well then," he said, and he paced back and forth, looking around the room as if he were viewing paintings in a museum. "I could help you."

"Huh?"

A grin spread across the man's face as he walked slowly over to us. Despite the flame, I heard each step. "I know who you are Ayumu. I know the girl you're holding is Chiyo, and she's very important to you. But if you don't leave now, you'll die."

"I know that," I said, trying to sound confident but truth was, I felt weak.

By now, man had squatted down right in front of me. He looked over to Chiyo and then to me. "We can still save her. We can return her back to how she used to be. With your help, I can save her life and can guarantee she'll live to an old age. But," and the man put such strength into that word, "there is one condition."

"What?"

The man only smiled as he said, "You have to do something for me. You see, I'm a cursed man Ayumu. And I want out. Take my place, and I'll help you get Chiyo out of this mess; alive. That's all I ask."

I didn't have much time to think. My head felt like an overstuffed water balloon. Everything burned. My mouth had gone dry and I struggled just to stay awake. I looked down at Chiyo's still face in my lap. _She doesn't deserve this. I need her. _Before losing consciousness, I nodded and accepted the man's deal.

* * *

><p>". . . He showed me your rescue to prove his word. And then he left." Osaka finished. "I never saw him again."<p>

"So," Chiyo said, feeling guilty. "You did that for me? Why? Why would you . . ."

"I couldn't let you die," Osaka said, trying to avoid Chiyo's piercing gaze. "I didn't know what else to do. I'm sorry. It's all my fault." Osaka's eyes traveled over to the clock on the wall, very concerned with the time. She cast one last longing glance at Chiyo and said, "Goodbye Chiyo. I'll miss you."

"Osaka wait," Chiyo blurted. "I can't let you do this." Chiyo's lips trembled with her body. She knew the weight of the words she was about to speak. And since she'd heard Tomo's story, she somehow knew that she'd be the one to speak them. "I-I'll do it," Chiyo said, her voice shaking. "I'll take your place."

"What?"

Swallowing her body's response to the decision, Chiyo said, "You've suffered enough because of me. I mean, what you did was wrong. With Tomo, with Kagura, and everyone else; but it was all because of me wasn't it?"

Osaka was speechless.

"Don't do this because of me. Let me take your place. I want you to be free."

Osaka's eyes widened at the prospect. So much so that she nearly tripped over a food tray as she worked out the words, "You mean it? I can be free?"

Chiyo nodded. "Yes Osaka. You can. Just get me out of this hospital."

Osaka moved hungrily towards Chiyo. She stumbled over several cords and stopped when she hit the floor. When Osaka got back up, Chiyo expected her to do whatever it was she needed to do. But instead, tears streamed down her reddening face. Chiyo tried to comfort her but Osaka shrank away from the hand. "I can't," she whispered. "I can't let you do it."

"Yes you can," Chiyo reassured, motioning for Osaka to come back to her. When Osaka refused to move despite her body's convulsing, Chiyo said, "You can, and you will. Please Osaka. It's okay."

Osaka shook head. But the more Chiyo soothed her, the more Osaka fell apart. And finally, Osaka nodded. "Thank you," she said, "thank you." Osaka stood herself up straight and approached Chiyo's bed. Her expression hard to read, she placed a loving hand on Chiyo's forehead and patted her. Chiyo closed her eyes and allowed Osaka to run fingers through her hair and softly pet her cheeks. She savored every touch from her best friend. "Chiyo," Osaka's voice was soft, almost sounding as it did back in high school, "I want you to know what you're getting yourself into." Chiyo nodded. She was ready.

The softness of Osaka's hand dissolved into hardened rock. It tingled where Osaka touched her and started to grow warm, like moving closer to a fire. The sensation spread throughout her body. She felt the heat growing around her. Chiyo's mouth went dry. She licked her lips with a tongue of sandpaper. Sweat trickled down her face as her body temperature steadily increased. Chiyo moaned in agony, but she did not ask for it to stop. _Is this how Osaka feels every day? How'd she do it? _

With her body turning to fire, Chiyo also began to see things. She could see Tomo and Sakaki in her mansion, going through her things. They read through more papers from that room and discussed Osaka. She could almost hear their words, as if they were right next to her; but the voices were blurred. Then Chiyo saw the nurse that always cared for her and whom she loved to see; Misagi-sensei. But Misagi-sensei wasn't caring for a patient. The young nurse instead sat on her knees in some doctor's office, performing indecent acts. And Chiyo saw Kristina, and she saw others as well. It was like having a thousand televisions turned on at once, something different on every one.

Finally, Chiyo felt a deep sense of fear rising up in her; like someone was watching her. Just from over her shoulder, someone or something waited for her. It sent shivers through her spine, feeling those eyes on her. And in the distance, she heard a voice. It was Osaka's. "Did you want something to drink?"

"Yes." Chiyo's throat had almost completely dried up; and her tongue shriveled. She felt a cup being placed to her lips and Chiyo drank just to put some moisture back into her body. But when the liquid hit her tongue, it burned and she wanted to scream as some of it dripped down her throat, scorching the flesh. Chiyo shoved the cup away and shot up in bed, opening her eyes. Dizziness swept over her as all the sensations quickly vanished. Unable to speak, Chiyo glanced over to Osaka.

But Osaka was gone. The room was empty. And on the floor was the cup that Chiyo had pushed away. Ice scattered across the floor. Water everywhere. Stumbling out of the bed, Chiyo rose to her feet. She almost toppled over from exhaustion, but gripped the bed. Inching her way to the door, she muttered, "I have to find her."


	17. Chapter 17

Welcome everyone to the final chapter! I'll save my comments for the end. So enjoy.

**Chapter 17**

Sakaki sat on the old, dusty bed as Tomo flipped through different articles and pictures. Few words had passed between them since arriving. Tomo had been amazed at how the Mihama estate had fallen into ruin. Of course, so had Sakaki when she first saw it in such a state._ And to think, we hung out here in high school. Doesn't seem possible._ A notebook landed on the bed and Sakaki glanced over to Tomo. "Is that it," she asked.

"Yes, that's everything."

Tomo didn't respond right away. She just fidgeted with some papers and kept checking the photos. She was lost. "You know, I was kind of hoping that these would answer some of my questions." And Tomo released a sarcastic chuckle. "But they just raise more." Sakaki couldn't respond for she didn't know how. "Did Osaka ever come to you? Did you ever see her?"

"No," Sakaki said, a little taken aback. "I last saw her at that graduation party. I didn't know about _this _until I found Chiyo's journals."

"Why? Why didn't she come to you?" Tomo asked, and Sakaki couldn't tell if it was rhetorical or not. "I mean, she visited the rest of us. Why'd she leave you out?" Sakaki lowered her head. "Sorry," the word came out quick. "Sorry Sakaki. I shouldn't have said that. Even after what Chiyo said, it bothers me." Then slumping back on the floor, Tomo finished, "It's just something you never quite let go of."

"I guess I don't understand," Sakaki said, glancing out the window at that lemon tree. Tomo had noticed it when they entered the room but hadn't really commented on it. The skeletal structure of the branches just creeped Sakaki out. Then looking back to Tomo who at some point had followed Sakaki's gaze out the window, Sakaki said, "This isn't really my place to say, but it sounds like we're all really important to Osaka; despite what's she done. She watched over Chiyo. The way she talked to you, and how she warned you about Yomi . . ." Sakaki didn't know where to go after that. ". . . maybe she was trying to help."

Tomo sighed. She didn't look convinced. "I don't know. I understand what you're saying. But with how she saved Chiyo . . . there's a difference there."

"Yeah I know," Sakaki resigned.

The room fell back into silence. Sakaki had nothing else to add and she didn't think Tomo would either. But Tomo did eventually say, with a small grin on her face, "Thanks Sakaki." Then she stood up and Sakaki finally thought that maybe Tomo would be at peace, somewhat.

However, a loud THUD from downstairs tore their attention off each other and Tomo rushed to the door. Sakaki stood to follow, but her leg was still a little sore from the stair climb. Tomo had already managed to get down the stairs before Sakaki even reached them. But she stopped in her tracks and probably shared the same of look of shock that covered Tomo's face. The front door had whipped open and in the doorway stood Osaka.

Now even though Sakaki had heard about Osaka from Chiyo, and read about her in the journals, and after hearing three different accounts of run-ins with Osaka, Sakaki couldn't believe it. Here she stood in her late sixties with Tomo, and Osaka walked into the house with her eighteen year old body. She truly hadn't aged a day. She still wore her school uniform and everything. The only thing out of place was Osaka's face. Just as everyone else had described her, she needed sleep and she looked miserable.

Osaka wobbled through the house, ready to tip over at any second. Tomo had been so shocked that she just stepped away when Osaka went for the stairs. She clung on to the railing for dear life, and though she had her high school figure, Osaka climbed the stairs with the same kind of difficulty that Sakaki had. Sakaki took a couple steps back. Was it time? Was it finally her turn to be tempted? But when Osaka reached the top and rested a hand on Sakaki's shoulders, she said, "Hey Sakaki-san, long time no see."

And Osaka collapsed into Sakaki's arms. She didn't have a choice but to catch the girl. Half carrying Osaka, she laid the girl down on the bed that she'd just been sitting on. Upon closer inspection, she found Osaka shivering. Sakaki quickly covered the girl up and did her best to make Osaka feel comfortable. Why? She wasn't sure. Everything had just happened so fast. What else was she supposed to do?

Slow footsteps stopped outside the door and there stood Tomo. But she would not enter. Her face unreadable, she said, "What are you doing here?"

Settling in to the dust infected bed, Osaka said, "My time is up Tomo. It's over."

Tomo didn't respond.

"I'm sorry Tomo," Osaka said, and at least to Sakaki, she sounded just like she did in high school. Osaka didn't seem to have that menacing tone that pervaded the other stories. She sounded more like herself, but upset. _But maybe that's just me. _Sakaki thought as Osaka continued. "I'm sorry about what happened to Kagura and Yomi. I never meant to . . ." But Tomo left. Her footsteps echoed up through the hallway and then disappeared.

"She's probably just cooling off downstairs," Sakaki said, surprised that she was comforting Osaka.

An awkward silence fell between them as Osaka eyed the door. Getting tired of standing, Sakaki grabbed a chair and pulled it up next to the bed. She kind of felt like she was back at the hospital; watching over Chiyo. And she wondered how Chiyo was doing. _ I hope Tomo's story didn't upset her too much. _Sakaki thought as she looked past Osaka. "Don't worry." Osaka's voice had caught Sakaki off guard. "Chiyo's okay."

"How did you . . ." Sakaki began but a strange ruckus from downstairs cut her off and she turned her head towards the door, hearing raised voices. One of them, most certainly Tomo's, "What the hell are you doing? You shouldn't be here!"

And the other voice, "Where is she? I want to see her!"

Sakaki glanced back at Osaka, who merely sighed in disappointment, like she'd been expecting this to happen. Deciding to see what the commotion was about, Sakaki moved from her chair and hurried in the fastest pace her leg would allow, to the stairs. The voices continued to argue.

Tomo shouted, "What are you doing out of the hospital? How'd you get out?"

The other voice, "Where is Osaka? I want to see her."

Sakaki's heart sank when she heard those words. She knew exactly who was down there. And reaching the stairs, her fears had been right. There stood Tomo, holding back a frantic, panicked Chiyo. She stumbled and swayed back and forth, trying to shake Tomo off of her. Sakaki was speechless. Never has Chiyo ever acted like this. "Sakaki," Chiyo had noticed her, "Where is she?"

Sakaki bit her lip. "Osaka's up here." And to Tomo, she said, "Let her go, Tomo. She might as well come up since she's here." Sakaki instantly knew that Tomo hated the idea, but unable to argue with the logic, she nodded.

Showing no more strength than usual, Chiyo clutched the banister and slowly inched her way up the stairs. Fortunately, Tomo followed her up, making sure she would not fall. When Chiyo had finally reached the top, Sakaki breathed a sigh of relief. Chiyo hadn't been on stairs in years. The doctors would never allow it, and they probably would've chewed everyone out if they knew what Chiyo had just done. _Wonder if they know?_

Sakaki didn't have to point to the door as it was still open. She just helped her longtime friend to the door. When they arrived, Chiyo left Sakaki's arms and lunged for the bed when her feet gave out. Luckily, she'd made it far enough to catch the edge of the mattress and with Sakaki's help; Chiyo was able to sit down on the bed, by Osaka.

Sakaki sat back down in her chair, not knowing what else to do. And she heard Tomo's footsteps fade down the stairs.

Chiyo had wrapped her fingers around one of Osaka's hands. How she could care for someone who's supposedly done so much evil? Sakaki couldn't understand. But then again, why would she be angry? Chiyo was probably one of the first to see Osaka after the fire. And then, Osaka had been in tough shape.

"It's okay Osaka," Chiyo consoled, "I'm here. It's still not too late."

Osaka only looked away from Chiyo, as if she couldn't stand the sight of her friend. Seeming very interested in the wall, Osaka said, "What are you doing here? Why'd you come?"

Chiyo's heart visibly sank in her chest. Her head lowered and Sakaki could've sworn she saw moistened cheeks. Sakaki was about to get up and leave for privacy sake, but Osaka caught her eye with a look that demanded her to stay.

"Please Osaka," Chiyo said, "I can still help you."

"No. I'm just tired."

"Is there anything we can get you," Chiyo asked, still not wanting to give up.

It took several seconds before Osaka even appeared to understand the question. Then she took quite some time with deciding her answer. But when she had, she said, "Could I have some water? My throat is a little dry."

"I'll get it," Sakaki immediately volunteered herself. But then she remembered the house had no running water; not for years. She'd have to run to the nearest convenience store or gas station. But Osaka must've read the look on her face.

"Just use the bathroom down the hall."

Deciding not to argue, Sakaki left the two. As she walked towards the bathroom, she tried to imagine Chiyo's escape from the hospital. _How had she pulled that off? _The stunt seemed almost impossible, not even Houdini could've done it. The cameras, the people, the safety precautions; not to mention the distance. It's not like the hospital was right next to Chiyo's mansion.

Locating the bathroom, Sakaki stepped inside and found a glass next to the sink. Occupied by bugs, dust, dirt, grime, and host of other unidentifiable things, Sakaki grabbed it and wiped it out with her shirt. A little better, but the shirt just swirled most of the gunk around; like everything had been tossed in a blender. Sakaki tried again, and a little cleaner. "This is probably as good as it gets," she resigned. And she turned on the cold water. At first nothing, then a sprinkle and then a shower, and finally water poured out. _How? This place hasn't . . ._ but hearing the groaning of the pipes, Sakaki filled the glass and just as the water was about to run over, the faucet shut off by itself. The water looked hazy, like something had gotten into it. But with no more coming out, Sakaki couldn't just dump it. "Maybe if I check the pipes, I can . . ."

A scream echoed through the halls and Sakaki almost dropped the cup.

Ignoring the pain coursing through her leg, Sakaki ran down the hallway and back into the bedroom to see what had happened. Her mouth dropped open in surprise. Chiyo sat terrified, while Osaka lay in bed with the same look as always. The difference, in the time Sakaki had been gone, Osaka had aged fifty years; at least. Her hair a cobweb white, her skin speckled with wrinkles. Bags hung from her eyes and her eighteen year old body had now become this old, brittle shadow of who she once was. Seeing the glass, Osaka stretched out a bony limb to grab it and Sakaki wished that she'd gone to that gas station.

"Thank you," Osaka muttered, and like the rest of her body, Osaka's voice had crumbled.

Osaka hungrily emptied the glass and satisfyingly handed it back to Sakaki, who couldn't help but notice that much of the grime was now gone. "Thanks Sakaki," Osaka repeated, "Is there anymore?"

"N-No, I don't think there'll be any," Sakaki said, and immediately saw the disappointed look on Osaka's face.

But she brightened up some and said, "That's okay. Maybe I'll just take a nap."

"Are you sure," Chiyo asked.

Osaka nodded. "I'll be okay."

Chiyo nodded, and before she got up, she dug around in her hospital gown and pulled out a folded up piece of paper. Taking the paper, Osaka knowingly opened it and said to Chiyo, "I can't . . ."

"Take it," Chiyo said, ". . . Just in case."

Osaka nodded. Helping Chiyo off the bed, Sakaki guided her towards the door, but stopped when Osaka called her name. Seeing as Chiyo's legs were still quite weak, Sakaki helped her to the door frame where she could hold herself up. Then returning to Osaka, she said, "Did you need something?"

Osaka placed a hand on Sakaki's shoulder. It felt cold, yet soft. She had hardly the strength to keep her grip. "Sakaki. When you leave, close the door."

"Okay."

"And . . . don't open it. Not anyone."

Sensing the time, Sakaki nodded. "I understand."

"No matter what you hear?"

"No matter what I hear," Sakaki repeated.

Happy with her response, Osaka released Sakaki, curled up in bed, and closed her eyes. Sakaki watched her for a few seconds, and then retreated back to Chiyo. Chiyo didn't say a word as to their conversation but allowed Sakaki to help her to the stairs and down. Every few steps, Sakaki couldn't help but glance back up at the door. What was the right thing to do here? She didn't know. And Sakaki had always prided herself in doing the right thing. It's one of the reasons that she took care of Chiyo; though mainly because they were such close friends.

With the stairs finally traversed, Sakaki located Tomo who stood uncomfortably in the living room. Finding a comfortable and sturdy place for Chiyo to sit, Sakaki helped her down. Then she too, found a place next to Chiyo. Tomo didn't stay quiet for long. "Well?"

"She's resting."

Tomo nodded. Then she said, "What about Chiyo?"

"I'm fine," Chiyo said, though her voice was nothing more than a helpless squeak.

Sakaki thought for a minute and said, "We should probably let the hospital know where she is."

Chiyo didn't respond. She probably didn't care. But Tomo nodded. "I'll go," Tomo said decisively, "Let me take care of it."

With no argument, Tomo left the mansion and the sound her car soon drifted down the street.

* * *

><p>Lying up in that dust ridden bed, it took Osaka quite some time before she fell asleep. And not having slept in over fifty years, she expected her nap to pass much more smoothly than it did. She tossed and she turned, rolled over and almost fell out of bed. Her mind plagued with a terrible dream, she sat in that cell, the one she had shown Tomo.<p>

Cold cement hugged her body as she cradled herself. The damp odor from the other cells filled her nostrils along with the smell of rotten eggs. Osaka's heart pounded in her chest as her eyes focused on the one thing that accompanied her. The old hourglass sat; the black sand dripping away its final grains into the bottom. "N-No," Osaka whispered, her entire body shaking violently. "No please!" And Osaka grabbed the hourglass, flipping it upside down. But the grains of sand only traveled up into the black mound that defied gravity. Shaking the hourglass, Osaka threw it against the cement wall and watched it bounce. Not even a crack in the glass as the final grain of sand slipped through to the other side.

A loud rumbling bell sounded throughout the prison and Osaka moved towards the door. But it was gone. Her only escape route had melted away and the cold, iron bars had stretched out to take the exit's place. Out in the hallway, people wandered. At first aimless, but then, they approached Osaka's cell. She couldn't make them out right away, but their faces quickly came into focus.

Yomi stood naked, blood dripping out of her wrists; her skin white. Kagura stood next, dripping with seaweed, dirt, and water streamed from her nose and mouth. Then was Tomo, dressed in her police uniform with gun in hand; hate filled her eyes. Chiyo was there too; along with her parents, stab wounds and all. Then more people flocked to the cell, to get a glimpse of her. Osaka recognized every one of them. But none were there to help. Fear flooded Osaka's heart. They were there to watch her die.

* * *

><p>Sakaki and Chiyo sat in silence. Neither could say a word to each other. What could Sakaki say? She had never experienced any of what Chiyo or Tomo had gone through. What could she possibly say to comfort her friend? Chiyo must've felt like a failure. From what had been in her journals, she'd tried hard to help Osaka. And who knows what the missing entries would've revealed? Sakaki placed an arm around Chiyo, hoping the gesture would mean something to her friend. Chiyo accepted it. And none moved until after midnight when strange sounds started emanating from upstairs.<p>

At first, the sounds were inconsequential. Could've been anything. Could've been an animal that had wandered its way in. But the noises escalated. So quickly did the noise climb, that it would've been like going mute to full blast on a car's sound system. The mansion's foundation shook in agony from the disturbance. Sakaki didn't know whether or not they should treat this like an earthquake until a new sound started up. A terrible screaming descended onto them. It could've been Osaka's, but it was impossible to tell.

Chiyo was the first to jump out of her chair. And in doing so, she toppled over. Sakaki moved to help her up, but Chiyo had already climbed to her feet and was already making her way over to the stairs. Sakaki followed quickly, remembering Osaka's warning. But by the time Sakaki caught up to Chiyo, the frail girl had somehow climbed up the stairs.

Sakaki caught Chiyo at the door which pounded furiously against the wall, cracking the plaster. Screams and moans of all sorts could be heard inside. More than Osaka was behind that door.

"Let me go," Chiyo demanded.

"I can't," Sakaki argued, "Osaka doesn't want us in there."

"I don't care! I'm going!"

"Chiyo please," Sakaki started but Chiyo ignored her and grabbed the doorknob. It hissed and smoked and Chiyo screamed. But because of the noises from within, her voice was lost.

Chiyo pulled back her hand as flesh flaked off and black burn marks shriveled the skin. Her hand shook. She couldn't seem to stop it. "Oh my God," Sakaki muttered, temporarily in shock. Her mind raced in panic. With the leathery appearance of Chiyo's hand, she'd need medical attention immediately.

Taking a couple of deep breaths, Sakaki calmed herself amidst the screams and the shaking of the house and the pounding of the door. For Chiyo's sake, she grabbed the girl and forced her to look her in the eyes. "Chiyo," Sakaki said, and Chiyo looked at her with dampened eyes and small pupils. "I'm getting you something for your hand, and we're getting out of here. Understand?" Chiyo nodded.

"Don't touch anything." Sakaki ran off down the hallway, towards the bathroom where she'd gotten Osaka's water. Her leg throbbed every step of the way. It burned with pain, begging her to stop but Sakaki continued until she'd found the bathroom. Storming inside, the house lurched and Sakaki was almost thrown off her feet. She tore through the drawers, cupboards, and everything until a stack of towels was found. Sakaki grabbed the cleanest one and dusted it off.

Hurrying back with more of a limp in her stride, she found Chiyo exactly where she'd left her. _Thank God. _Sakaki said to herself as Chiyo only cradled her hand, not even looking up to Sakaki when she approached. And when she'd arrived, Sakaki noticed another sound had started up from within. A deep, rumbling voice which threw curse after obscenity to all who could hear. Osaka's voice had completely drowned in this new sound as the house shifted under their feet once more.

The sounds had frozen Sakaki for only a second. She quickly regained composure and grabbed Chiyo's hand. Wrapping Chiyo's hand in the towel, she finished as fast as she could. "Alright Chiyo. Let's go," Sakaki said. She reached for Chiyo's hand but Chiyo pulled it away. "Chiyo?"

"Sakaki, I'm sorry," Chiyo's voice barely reached Sakaki.

And then Chiyo shoved Sakaki back with all her strength. Sakaki lost her balance and toppled over and onto the floor. A loud crack pierced her ears and Sakaki clutched her leg, groaning in pain. She tried to get up, but the pain forced her back onto the floor. She looked up at Chiyo whose face was wrought with pain. "I'm sorry Sakaki. But I can't leave her like this."

And Chiyo placed her wrapped hand back onto the doorknob. The hissing sound started up again and the towel flaked away as Chiyo writhed in pain. But yet she held firm and Sakaki tried to stop her. In all her agony, Chiyo pulled the door open and Osaka's scream tore through the building.

Everything happened at once. The door repeatedly slammed against the wall, breaking off the hinges. Chiyo froze in place and released a blood curdling scream as blue firelight reflected off her body. Instantly, something from within ripped the scream out of Chiyo's throat and her body crashed against the wall.

"CHIYO!" Sakaki screamed and hurried towards the motionless girl. Another loud cracking noise filled Sakaki's ears and when she looked up, the broken door hurtled towards her. Everything went black.

* * *

><p>"Sakaki. Sakaki."<p>

A voice echoed in Sakaki's head and she felt her temple throbbing. Slowly opening her eyes, Sakaki stared at the ceiling. Everything was quiet. But she was still on the floor. Sakaki moved to sit up but was held down; and finally she saw Tomo next to her.

"Not so fast. You've had a small concussion. Just take it easy," Tomo said.

Clutching her head, Sakaki waited for the throbbing to go down. "I'm okay," she finally said and slowly sat up. It took her a few seconds for her eyes to readjust to the light. "What time is it?"

"Almost noon."

Sakaki released the grip on her forehead and glanced around. Mere feet in front of her rested a body, covered up with some kind of jacket. _Chiyo. _Last night still fresh in her mind, Sakaki reached out to confirm the growing sense of dread in her heart.

Tomo grabbed her arm and pull it back. "No," Tomo said, "She wouldn't want you to see her like that."

Sakaki nodded.

"Can you walk?"

"I don't know. When Chiyo pushed me, I . . ." But Tomo handed her some kind of branch that had the right size for a walking stick or cane. With Tomo's help, Sakaki managed to get back on her feet, and with the "walking stick," Sakaki was able to slowly limp her way around. The first place she wanted to go was the bedroom where Osaka had been. Sakaki slowly walked over the uneven, cracked floorboards. The floor got worse as she entered the room.

The room itself was covered in black ash. The ash drifted through air like thick snow. Everything covered in the black powder; it even crunched under Sakaki's feet. The room reeked of sulfur. But the most noticeable change was the wall. It was gone. Sakaki could clearly see the lemon tree from where she stood, along with big, thick ruts dug up in the ground leading up to the tree. The jutting boards were coated with dirt, leaves, and twigs. And from where she stood, Sakaki could see something blowing around on one of the lemon tree's branches.

After receiving help from Tomo in exiting the mansion, Sakaki maneuvered her way over to where the lemon tree stood. Tomo helped her over the uneven ground and past the ruts. A scrap of paper lay skewered on one of the branches. Tomo managed to pull it free with minimal climbing and handed it to Sakaki. The picture was of all of them, back in high school. Everyone was in it.

Tomo had one look at the picture and said, "She's gone isn't she?"

Sakaki nodded. "I think so."

"Well come on, let's get you to the hospital." Tomo said as she led Sakaki back round the front where an ambulance and several cop cars waited. Sakaki hadn't seen or heard them so she was a little surprised when she'd found them there.

As Tomo guided her through all the people, a black body bag emerged from the house, carried by two officers. "Don't worry about her," Tomo said, knowing how Sakaki felt about losing Chiyo.

The emergency team helped Sakaki up onto a gurney and Sakaki asked Tomo, "What now?"

Tomo thought about the question for a minute and said, "It's over now. There's nothing left." Then Tomo grew silent and with a decisive nod, she finished, "I think I'll travel, and hear the others' stories. I want to know where she's been."

And as Sakaki got loaded into the ambulance, Tomo hurried off. When she returned, she held a large manila folder and climbing into the ambulance, she handed it to Sakaki. "Before I forget, I'm supposed to give you this." Sakaki looked up to ask but Tomo said, "I don't know what it is. I was just told to give it to you." Then Tomo hopped out of the ambulance and Sakaki watched the girl wave as the doors were closed. She watched Tomo until she could no longer be seen.

Opening the folder, Sakaki found the deed to Chiyo's house, and her will; and her signature on the will. After a quick read, Sakaki found everything had been left to her. The house, what was left of the money, everything. It all belonged to her now. Setting the folder and its contents aside, Sakaki closed her teary eyes and fell into sleep; never to hear of Osaka or Tomo again.

THE END

* * *

><p>Well, here we are. The story is now finished. And what a ride it has been! First of all, I want to say Thank You to everyone who has read the story and an even bigger thanks to all those who have reviewed. I want to send out a very, very special thanks to my Irish Gothic teacher, without whom I never would have read <span>Melmoth the Wanderer. <span>And a special shout needs to go out to my sister who allowed me to use her name in this story. And to anyone else who may deserve thanks, but just escapes my mind.

Now if you've enjoyed this story, I do hope you will check out the book that inspired it. Though Melmoth is difficult to read, it is definitely worth the effort and is a thousand times better than this.

And now I want to ask one more time for reviews. This is the last chapter so I hope that whether or not you've reviewed before, that you will take the time and give me a few words. Whether you liked it or not, I want to hear your opinion (just don't flame). Did you like the story? Was it hard to follow? What'd you think of Osaka and her OOCness? How were the other characters handled? What could've been done differently? Please review if you can and be honest. I can't tell you how much fun this has been and I hope that everyone has enjoyed the ride. Thank you so much for everything.


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